


Broken Heavens

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Series: Crowned Souls [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, and the healing of broken relationships, enemies being forced to work together, king AU, minecraft au, rivalshipping - Freeform, where the lost go sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 188,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7244902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been eight months since the games. Since Gavin left. Since everything fell apart between the five kings.</p><p>The events of the past have them all hurting, wary, determined not to get too close - until the sudden appearance of another beast forces them to work together.  Now with a common enemy, they find themselves joining forces and taking a trip into the heart of the Wild to investigate an ancient mystery.</p><p>(Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6107668/chapters/13998997">Where The Lost Go</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **a/n: Some aspects of this are based on ancient Greek mythology, but I’m putting my own take on it, so it’s not intended to be at all accurate to the original stories.**
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> **c/w for temporary character death at some point in the story**
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> Thank you so much to miss-ingno, youre-my-bois, and justisaisfine for their help with this fic! <3

The Wild was still, and silent.

It was Autumn, and these days the sun sank early into long nights. Already it was creeping away behind the dark trees, the horizon streaked red and purple, mottled dark clouds like bruises stretching out across the sky over the neighbouring Stoneworld. The forest was eerie in this twilight, on the brink when monsters began to emerge - and the thick branches of the trees kept a tight canopy over everything - except for one clearing, where they rose even higher, a sparser area with patches of sky open between the twisted wooden arms and long vines that hung down in tendrils. The moon would be visible, once the sun finally lowered into darkness.  For now, the last dregs of light sent the space awash with wine and blood.

And then - from deep in the trees - a metallic _thunk, thunk, thunk_.

Rhythmic, artificial footsteps, snapping twigs and fallen branches underfoot-

A golem burst into the clearing, sprinting mechanically along with single-minded purpose. Its eyes glinted red, its body was sleek and strong; a streamlined design, out of place in these ragged woodlands.

It _thunked_ its way into the centre of the clearing, and paused - head turning slowly as its glowing eyes scanned the treeline in search of what direction to go in.

But before it could go anywhere, an arrow whistled out of the trees behind it and struck it in the back. The arrowhead dinged harmlessly off the metal shell, and the golem turned around.

Two draugr emerged from the woods. They moved slowly, but in clear pursuit - bows raised, empty eye sockets fixed determinedly on the golem. One of them fired another arrow and fast as lightning, the golem raised a hand and caught it mid-air. It snapped it in half with one clench of its mighty fist and strode forward towards the draugr. They backed up a few paces, nocking more arrows, but in one great swing the golem struck one of them and sent it exploding into a shower of scattered bones.

It turned to the other - and in the forest behind it, a fleeting shadow took advantage of the distraction, slipping from tree to tree behind its back, moving higher into the twisted branches that arched up around the clearing. A little flurry of movement - then the figure blended back into the foliage again, unseen.

Another massive hand seized the second draugr by the skull, twisting it right off. The skeleton crumpled to the ground and the golem threw down the skull before turning - and freezing at a rustle of movement in the trees.

Red eyes flashed, alarmed. It stepped forwards cautiously - only to stumble as two large stones flew from opposite ends of the clearing, striking it in the head and back.

It whipped around, jogging towards the source of one rock-

And then, with a wild cry, a green-clad figure swung from above on one of the roping vines, sweeping down and kicking the golem square in the head before swooping up into the trees again.

It stumbled, and fell - and another rock spiraled towards it, from above this time, bonking it on the head hard enough to make its red eyes flicker. It raised its arms, protecting itself from the next onslaught of stones that battered it from all directions as it rose unrelenting to its feet.

A second figure darted out from the trees, ducking nimbly to avoid the rocks still being thrown from all around her. She was holding a makeshift rope in one hand, vines twisted around one another into a strong cord, and she ran right up to the golem as it swung its arms about, batting away the rocks, and looped the rope around one of its legs.

At the same time, the man jumped down from the trees again, swinging himself towards the golem and looping his own vine around its arm. It thrashed, fists swinging at both of them - one narrowing in on the man with inhuman precision. It hit him in the ribs as he landed and he stumbled a few paces sideways before falling - but jumped nimbly back up, and when the golem seized one of the stones and hurled it at him, he backflipped out of the way and jumped back up into the trees.

The golem swung its other hand towards the woman without even looking at her. She ducked it, but barely, and was forced to scramble up into the trees out of reach - but they were both back a second later, swinging down and targeting the golem’s arms, looping around it as it was distracted by the rocks until a tangle of vines had its arms pinned to its sides and its legs immobilised.

It squirmed inside its prison, eyes flashing with alarm and threatening to break free - but with one final swoop, the man swung in and kicked it square in the head, sending heavily it to the ground with a metallic _crash_!

He landed nimbly at the same time, hopping a few paces to get his balance back, old boots with only a few flecks of gold paint left on them kicking up dust on the ground. He straightened up and winced, rubbing his side with a grimace. Then reached up and shoved his hood back, shaking himself out like a wet cat.

“Well, that was fun,” he said.

“You okay, Gavin?” a voice called from the bushes.

The others emerged from the forest around him - the woman hopping down from the branches above, two other men slipping from the foliage where they’d been lurking, invisible. They were all clad in creeper skins - hoods, cloaks, and tunics of the same mottled fabric that had them blending in with their surroundings. In the dim light they looked like illusions, like shifting shadows that you’d only see in your peripheral - but after a moment they pushed their own hoods back, revealing young faces, flushed with exertion.

Gavin grinned, shooting them all a thumbs up, his eyes turning to the one hurrying towards him - Dan.

“Fantastic, B,” he said.

Dan raised an eyebrow.

“Looked like that thing got a good wallop in.”

Gavin rubbed his side ruefully.

“They’re getting stronger,” he said, glancing down at the fallen golem. “Ryan’s design skills have certainly improved. They’re less… clunky than the first ones were.”

He walked over to the golem and stared down at it for a moment, head tilted. It wriggled and thrashed in the vines, redstone eyes glinting menacingly. After a moment Gavin sighed and straddled it, sitting down on its chest and leaning forward. He pulled a knife from his belt and worked it into the creature’s eye socket, wiggling it around as the golem began to make mechanical noises of alarm. Finally he dug out one redstone eye - it dulled, stopped glowing as it came free - and he cheerfully removed the other before throwing them both on the ground and stamping on them, shattering them into little red shards.

“No need for that!” he declared, and Dan sighed.

“Ryan’s so desperate to spy on us,” he said, and Gavin gave a fluid, careless shrug.

“He’s seen nothing,” he replied, flippantly. “We’ve taken out all the golems he sent. I have to say it’s a clever idea - saving what they see in redstone so that he can extract the images later - but as far as I know none of them have ever gotten back to him. But still, y’know. Avoid skinny dipping, just in case we miss any.”

This with a pointed look at the third young man, who raised his hands, face going red.

“Look,” he said, defensively. “That was one time, and it was a _bath_ , okay? It wasn’t skinny dipping, it was an _outdoor bath_.”

“Oh my _God_ , Blaine,” the woman cried, screwing her face up.

“I didn’t build a bloody plumbing system for you to go dangling your nads about in the river we _drink from_ ,” Gavin said.

“Look!” Blaine protested. “Things shit in that river, you shouldn’t drink from it anyway-”

“Gods above,” Dan cut in, “He shat in the river!”

Gavin gagged. The woman was laughing, but in a rather horrified way, and she reached out and started slapping at Blaine’s arm.

“You’re vile!”

“ _I_ didn’t!” he cried. “Animals, I meant _animals_ shit in there-”

“I’m never going near that water again,” Dan said, shaking his head as he crouched down next to the golem and pulled the vines tighter - it was still wriggling, even without its eyes, but it stilled when he kicked it in the head. “We should send this one back before it gets dark.”

Gavin shook himself, snapping back to attention.

“Right, of course,” he said, and turned to the woman, clapping his hands together. “Barb? Do the honours.”

Barbara grinned. She pulled a little pot of black paste from a pouch at her belt, produced a brush seemingly out of nowhere, and crouched over the golem.

The three men huddled up around her, watching with rapt attention.

“Make the balls bigger.”

“Gods, no, that’s monstrously large, they look like arse cheeks now.”

“I think it needs more veins.”

“How fucking veiny is _your_ nob; that’s not normal. It looks diseased.”

“Excuse me, the artist is at work here,” Barbara cut in. “And I’ve seen dicks from more angles than any of you could ever dream of.”

“I dispute _that_ ,” Blaine muttered, “I’m very creative with a mirror.”

Barbara finished her work with a proud flourish and they all sat back and considered it for a moment - an enormous, veiny cock painted square on the golem’s chest.

“It’s not normal,” Gavin said finally. “It’s really not _normal_ how well you can draw them.”

“What do you think I got arrested for?” she laughed.

“Public indecency?” Dan asked.

“Defacing government property,” she replied. She stood up, dusting off her knees. “I really hope Ryan appreciates the artistic effort we go to when we return his gifts.”

“We’re improving on their design,” Blaine supplied. “They’re so plain right now. No pattern or anything.”

Gavin smiled faintly, staring down at the golem. For six months now, Ryan had been sending them into the Wild to spy on him. They never damaged or destroyed anything - were never aggressive - just lurked around the castle, watching. Recording.

Gavin always found them and removed their redstone eyes. He had mob sentries all over the forest. So just as Ryan kept sending them, he kept sending them back, the cheeky, obscene pictures a way of taunting the Stone king for trying to gather intel. Not a threat - he only ever destroyed the ones that came into the Wild.

Aside from that, there’d been no communication between him and the Stone king - or _any_ of the kings. But he could still feel them - faintly now, something he’d grown used to. Resting in the back of his head.

The others were still laughing and chattering next to him. He shook himself, snapping back to attention, and called on his gift, reaching out and sensing several zombies wandering nearby. He summoned them to him, and turned back to the others.

“Let’s get this thing up,” he ordered, and Dan stepped forward. Between them they heaved the golem upright. The zombies lumbered out of the bushes. None of the group so much as batted an eye as the monsters got close - as used to them as if they were familiar pets.

Gavin passed the bound golem over to the zombies, letting them take hold of it. He put a hand to his temple and communicated a silent order - _take it to the edge of the Wild, point it at the Stone capital, let it walk back -_ felt them acknowledge it in their dull minds.

The zombies began to shuffle away, and Gavin started to turn back to the others, when a sudden, earsplitting roar rent the entire forest and made them all nearly jump out of their skin. The whole Wild trembled under the force of a noise that seemed to flood out every other sense, drowning them in sheer, inhuman terror.

Gavin’s stomach dropped.

 _It can’t be_.

He knew that sound. He’d heard it before, or something similar. Months ago now, but burned into his memory for how unnatural it’d been - a noise belonging to another world.

_The beast._

He turned instinctively to Dan, meeting his eyes and seeing the recognition there, too. He opened his mouth to speak, but another unholy screech rent the clearing, and in the distance there was a sudden cacophony of noise and movement as a huge flock of birds rose into the air some distance away.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye - they all turned, staring up into the sky as a black shape burst from the trees in the north of the Wild. It was a part of the jungle that Gavin had never really been in - far away and so overgrown that it was difficult to travel through. He’d been focused on clearing and rebuilding things here, closer to the border - had only occasionally sent mob scouts to venture further out.

Now some dark form rose from over there - far away, but large enough that they could see it from here, even in the fading light of dusk-

And steadily getting larger, as it headed through the sky towards them.

Gavin jerked himself into action, grabbing Dan’s arm and shoving him towards the trees.

“Down, get down!” he hissed. “Everyone hide!”

They jolted into motion, scurrying into the foliage and pressing themselves flat against the ground, drawing their hoods up. The creeper skins rendered them practically invisible, especially in the darkness.

Dan was pressed close to his side, and Gavin could feel him breathing heavily, his whole body heaving - could hear Barbara somewhere to his left - little hitching breaths that she exhaled in punching whispers of “Fuck - fuck - fuck-”

But all that was drowned out as the dark form drew nearer and a new noise filled the air.

Wingbeats.

Heavy, terrible wingbeats that swept away any other sound in rhythmic, deafening _swooshes_ , like the gushing pound of a heart. And a shadow appeared overhead - Gavin peered up from under his hood, and his heart nearly stopped.

 _Dragon_.

There was no mistaking that shape. He’d seen it in paintings and books - in trapeze artists’ costumes at the circus as they swooped and dove across the big top - in hideous carved statues in the cathedrals of the Plains.

But they weren’t real - they’d _never_ been real - just myths, stories-

Yet here it was, its terrible silhouette clear against the sky as it sailed towards them and the clearing grew darker, darker, until they were engulfed in its shadow.

Gavin couldn’t breathe. Everything was black - like night, like nothingness - a terrible coldness seeming to settle over the world, freezing him to the marrow, dread deep in his heart.

Those moments of panic, too-aware of his own breathing, trying desperately not to move, seemed to stretch on for hours. But then - the shadow crept away again, and the wine-red, weak light of the setting sun seeped back in.

Gavin slumped against the dirt, gasping. Took a moment just to recover. He hadn’t been that scared in a long time - not when he fought the beast, not even when he put on the crown. He realised he was shaking, but forced himself to sit up and twist to look at the sky again.

The dragon was flying away, towards the Stoneworld and the Plains beyond.

The others had risen with him - Blaine was clinging to Barbara’s arm, both of them pale and shaky - Dan looked more rattled than he’d ever seen him. They all turned to him, wide-eyed, seeking some kingly or magical explanation - but Gavin could only stare into the distance at the retreating beast, his mind whirling. Finally, as it became nothing more than a speck on the darkening horizon, he turned to the rest of them and swallowed hard.

“Okay… what the actual fuck was _that?”_

 

* * *

 

“My lord,” the messenger said, poking his head through the flaps of Geoff’s tent.

The king looked up. He’d been sitting in the middle of the floor, sharpening his sword. The tent was large, but cluttered by now with empty wine bottles, discarded maps - armour and clothes spread out for cleaning, a sprawl of messy blankets over the bedroll in one corner.

Geoff himself looked worn down, the signs clear that he’d been out in the field for too long. His beard was quite frankly spectacular, his face gaunter and eyes dull with a deep-seated exhaustion. But he straightened up now, turning and beckoning the young man to come in.

“Yes, Trevor?”

Trevor’s face twisted awkwardly.

“Baron Nutt is up on the wall again, sir.”

Geoff let out a heavy sigh. He gave his sword a final swipe with the whetstone and stood up.

“He’s not pissing over the battlements again, is he?”

“No, sir, his…” Trevor paused, opened and shut his mouth several times, and then look very pained as he continued, “His, uh, genitals are firmly in his trousers this time.”

He looked mortified at being forced to mention _genitals_ in front of his King. It had been a trying last few months, and Geoff hadn’t exactly been in as light-hearted a mood as he usually was around his subjects, especially the newer recruits. Still - he just nodded, now, and moved forward, patting Trevor on the shoulder as he passed.

“Good. I’m not in the mood to be traumatised by the sight of that this early in the morning. I’d better go see what the bastard’s doing now, then.”

Trevor smiled faintly, and Geoff sheathed his sword and pushed the tent flap aside, striding out.

It was just past dawn, and a weak sun was emerging into the overcast sky, casting everything in a pale, washed-out light. But the Plains king walked out into a sea of colour - row upon row of green and gold tents stretched out across the fields. Army barricades, campfires, people bustling to and fro - supply wagons set up, the ringing clatter of armour and metal breaking across the dawn air.

Before them, the city stood with its impenetrably high wall. They had been here so long now - nearly six weeks, keeping the place under siege.

It had been eight months since the uprising. Eight difficult months of pushing down revolts, of skirmishes and battles over the major cities of the Plains. But they had pushed Mark Nutt back, and now they had him pinned down here. His final stand, and one he wouldn’t win - he was outnumbered, but the city had strong defences. For now, Nutt was trapped. Every day he came out and taunted them from the wall, trying to challenge Geoff to a one-on-one duel for the crown. Geoff wasn’t stupid - he knew the other man would cheat somehow and he wasn’t about to risk it. Keeping him pinned down would take longer, but he’d inevitably crumble.

It was just a matter of time.

He felt bad for the innocent people inside the city - when they’d arrived, they’d offered to let any civilians out who wished to side with their king. Some had escaped but Nutt had forcibly stopped the others, keeping them prisoner inside. They needed to end this, and soon, before anyone else got hurt - if he didn’t surrender soon, they’d try an attack.

For now, they were just waiting it out - then this whole sorry business would be over. Too many lives had been lost already in the fighting, and Geoff was getting sick of it.

But it wouldn’t be long now.

As he walked towards the edge of their camp, Jack moved up to meet him, Captain Burns right behind him. Geoff smiled at the sight of him, and Jack gave a quick smile back.

“I’ve just read Lindsay’s latest letter,” he said. “Everything’s okay back at the capital. She’s holding things together - the revolts have calmed down, now. Most people there have your back, understand why this is happening.”

“Most?” Geoff asked, warily, but Jack didn’t elaborate, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

“It’ll be fine,” he said softly. “Soon everything will go back to normal. Once you take Nutt down things will settle and people will see how well you took command.”

“If I know anything about the nobles and academics at court they’ll already be over-analysing all the ways I could have handled this fucking situation better,” Geoff muttered, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked over at Jack to find the other man eyeing him with concern, and sighed. “You should be back there. In the city, where it’s safe - not out here.”

"You say that,” Jack replied, lips twitching, “But you know you’re glad I’m here.”

Geoff couldn’t argue with that. They exchanged a soft look, and Geoff reached up, touching Jack’s cheek gently for a moment. He looked worse for wear too after so long travelling across the country, sleeping in tents and living on the move - but he smiled at Geoff now, his eyes as tender and loving as always, and Geoff smiled back before letting his hand drop and continuing on to where Mark Nutt was standing as usual on the city wall atop the gatehouse.

They stayed a safe distance back, behind some of their barricades - Burnie at his side and two soldiers with big shields flanking him, ready to block any attack. Nutt himself was prepared to duck behind the battlements at a moment’s notice. There were archers along the walls next to him, but Geoff had his own - the same stalemate that’d been going on for weeks.

The asshole, with his beady little eyes, annoying laugh and cartoonishly villainous moustache, had already done a hell of a lot of damage to Geoff’s reputation by kicking up this whole business. He was a conniving bastard and had managed to convince half the kingdom that Geoff was a coward who was sending their country down the toilet. His taunts had barb behind them - Geoff losing the games, and Gavin taking the crown, hadn’t helped.

Luckily his military might had succeeded in pushing Nutt back, and now the man spent most of his time trying desperately to goad Geoff into fighting him.

“Ramsey!” he hollered now, his voice echoing down from the wall as he spotted Geoff. “Have you finally finished hiding in your tent?”

“For the gods’ sake, surrender while you still have the chance, Nutt!” Geoff yelled back up, really not in the mood for this. He’d barely slept, he hadn’t had breakfast yet, and he was sick of living in a tent. “There’s no way this ends well for you - you’re doing your people wrong dragging this whole fucking business on like this!”

“Then you should face me like a man, and we can finish this!”

“We both know that isn’t going to happen,” Geoff called tiredly, but Nutt just swung his hands wildly about.

“Do you hear that boys?” he cried - his men just stared at him rather blankly, clearly as tired of this siege as Geoff was - “He’s scared he can’t beat me! I’m not surprised. After all, you couldn’t beat King Ryan, or Michael-”

“Comparing yourself to kings,” Geoff chided. “That’s extremely arrogant from someone who I haven’t seen pick up a sword in all these battles yet.”

Nutt didn’t acknowledge that. In fact, Geoff was pretty sure he’d gone a bit mad by this point, because he started pacing up and down, hands clasped behind his back, voice rising excitedly with everything he said - like he wasn’t even sick of these taunts after spewing them day after day.

“You think you’re winning because you’ve pushed us back,” he began.

“I mean, that’s what winning _means_ ,” Geoff muttered, and Burnie snorted softly beside him.

“Little do you know, I have an army of _spies_ in your ranks!”

“I’m _pretty_ sure you don’t.”

“Even now,” Nutt cried, “My men are moving towards the crown!”

“They really aren’t,” Geoff muttered - he knew that was true because _Jack_ had the crown on him at this very moment, tucked in what looked like a medic’s bag that he carried on him at all times. No one but Geoff knew about that - even the rest of his close advisors and friends thought it was back in the city with Lindsay.

“Those you trust are about to turn on you,” Nutt said, and paused in his pacing, pointing a finger. “Burns, Tuggey - they all work for _me_!”

Geoff feigned a horrified gasp, clapping his hand to his chest, while Burnie made a rather unimpressed grunting noise next to him.

“While you laze about here, refusing to face me like a real man,” Nutt continued, “My people move among you, unseen! They walk in the shadows! They lurk like… like…”

He paused, apparently unable to think of a simile. Geoff exchanged an unimpressed glance with Burnie and Jack.

“ _Spiders_!” Nutt cried finally.

“They lurk like spiders,” Burnie repeated flatly. “...Okay.”

“You are only _prolonging_ your misery! Duel me!” Nutt shrieked. “Duel me, Ramsey, draw your fucking sword you snivelling cockface!”

“The mental image of that is… confusing,” Geoff replied, but Nutt let out a wild cry.

“I _challenge you_!” he yelled, and drew his sword, held it between his legs like a dick and started doing furious pelvic thrusts.

“Holy shit,” was all Geoff could say, shaking his head - but a moment later Jack nudged his arm.

“Geoff,” he said, voice funnily soft. “There’s something behind him, up there.”

Geoff looked up. Sure enough, there was a black shape in the sky, growing steadily larger against the rising sun. With the light behind it it was hard to make out what it was - he squinted, trying to shield his eyes, but barely had time to take it in before it was getting bigger, and bigger, big enough to blot out the sun entirely-

Nutt and his men had noticed the shadow by now. He faltered in his enthusiastic hip movements, turning to look up at it-

But it was zooming in fast now and the next thing they knew, a fucking dragon swooped out of the sky and swallowed him whole.

“What the _fuck_ ,” was all Geoff had time to get out, before the dragon pulled its wings up and landed on the top of the wall with a shuddering _crash_. It crushed wooden structures under its feet, men scrambling out of the way like scattering ants, bits of wood and stone crumbling away under its weight - it arched its neck back, gulping down Nutt in several jerking movements before it shook itself, opened its gaping mouth and _roared_.

The noise was deafening and awful, and made everyone reel back and double over. Geoff was thrown straight back to the Wild, to that awful night in the forest and the storm and that first time they heard the beast - but this was even worse, it was so _close_. For the duration of the terrible sound he thought it might drive him mad; it seemed to sink deep into his ears and wrap around his mind, flooding every other thought and sense out, leaving only terror.

He stumbled backwards, grabbing blindly for Jack and squeezing his arm, his own eyes screwed shut like that would somehow help - when the roar finished his ears were ringing and there was a moment of stunned silence.

Then scattered screams began from the wall as the soldiers up there started to flee, and with another series of snarls the dragon snapped at them with its huge jaws and swung its enormous tail, sending some of them plummeting to the ground below.

Geoff could only stare for a moment, taking it in.

He had seen pictures of dragons before. Everyone had. Drawings in children’s storybooks, in the margins of ancient tomes full of myths and legends. And this dragon certainly looked like those pictures, in shape and form - huge tail, ridges of scales down its spine, pointed snout and enormous teeth. Giant, leathery wings tucked against its back.

But it was pitch black, with some smouldering crimson patches - like embers on a dying fire - trailing streams of dark energy every time it moved. There was something otherworldly about it - it looked like no mortal reptile. Like a beast from hell or something formed by some weird sorcery.

For a moment he was dumbfounded, gaping up at the beast - half convinced this was all some exhausted hallucination. Then he shook himself, and jerked into action - Nutt was dead, and the dragon was flinging more soldiers off the wall, tearing others to bits in his teeth.

“Men!” he shouted, turning over his shoulder - soldiers were already hurrying from their tents, snatching up weapons and waiting for orders - staring at the dragon and muttering curses under their breath. Geoff turned to Burnie, who seemed lost for words.

“Fuck,” Burnie said, meeting his eyes. “Well that came out of fucking nowhere.”

“I have a plan,” Geoff said.

“That was fast.”

“Half a plan,” Geoff corrected. “I’ll use the Sight to distract it and find weak spots. In the meantime, stay back - use arrows, get the catapults set up - attack it from a distance. Don’t get close. We’ll come up with something.”

Burnie nodded, but Geoff could see the uncertainty in his eyes. This was like nothing they’d ever faced before, fucking hell - he reached out and clapped the other man on the shoulder before turning to Jack and grabbing his hand.

“Come on - we need to get to cover,” he said, and Jack nodded. His eyes were huge and Geoff tugged him along, back through the streams of soldiers who were rushing to follow Burnie’s barked orders - they got to the cover of one of the barricades they’d set up when they first arrived here and Nutt’s men would attack them, sending showers of arrows raining down from the city, and crouched behind it. Geoff settled himself on the ground, Jack kneeling next to him.

“Geoff,” he said.

“Hm?”

“That’s a _fucking dragon_.” Jack peered out over the top of the barricade and ducked back down, shaking his head. “Where did it… how…”

“I know,” Geoff said, and couldn’t help his hysterical laugh. “Gods. That took a fucking turn! It took care of our Nutt problem but now we have to kill a fucking…” he trailed off, shaking his head with a sigh, then took a deep breath and met Jack’s eyes. He looked confused - scared - but still fiercely determined as he pulled his sword out, ready to protect Geoff’s body.

“Be careful,” Jack said, and Geoff smiled a bit.

“Nothing can hurt me in the Sight. _You_ be careful, you’re guarding my ass as well as yours!”

Jack laughed and Geoff grinned back before closing his eyes and stepping out of his own body. Immediately the world distorted into the desaturated, dreamlike Sight, but he wasted no time adjusting, instead shooting straight into the air and flying up towards the dragon, over the crowds of soldiers lining up in rows, Burnie yelling directions at them to _ready, aim, fire_!

Arrows sailed like wind towards the dragon, some shooting right through Geoff’s incorporeal body as he flew with them, closer and closer. The dragon was still atop the wall, picking off every soldier within reach - he brought himself to hover right in front of its face. Its head alone was as large as a house, and it was grotesque up close - its eyes shone an unnatural purple, like an Enderman.

 _Another beast_ , he thought - Ryan had sent him some preliminary findings on what the other one had been.

He hovered right in front of its face and then focused, drawing on his gift and letting himself appear to the creature, floating midair in front of it.

“Oi!” he yelled, and the dragon reared back at the sudden sight of him. With another vicious snarl it snapped its teeth at him, but he flew aside, disappearing again - projecting himself at intervals as it snapped at him, confused and twisting in on itself trying to get him as he flew behind it and all around its body.

He couldn’t see any weak spots. It didn’t look like it was covered in scales, but whatever it was made of, arrows and swords seemed to be bouncing harmlessly off. Its wings were the only thing taking damage - a few arrows had penetrated them, though they were so small in comparison to the creature that they’d done little harm.

Its neck, though - its neck was long and thin, able to curl this way and that to chase its prey down - he looked around for something, anything that might be big enough to use as a weapon against it, and his eyes fell on the gatehouse.

_The gate!_

This city had strong defences, one of which was the massive iron portcullis that could be lowered down behind the sturdy wooden doors, keeping enemies out. You wouldn’t want to be under that if it fell suddenly.

There were few soldiers left on the wall - all either hiding or dead - but inside the city people were still running for cover, screaming - there were soldiers in the street, shouting orders, frantically gathering weapons, and he went down to one woman who seemed to be in charge and materialised in front of her.

“You,” he said, and the woman jumped a mile, letting out a screech of surprise.

“My - my lord, I didn’t-”

“This thing’s gonna destroy the whole fucking city. I have a plan to kill it, but I’ll need you to organise your men,” he said.

The woman sputtered a few times.

“I wasn’t with Nutt,” she began, but Geoff flapped a hand.

“I don’t fucking care about Nutt, there’s a dragon up there! Look, I’m going to try and draw it outside the city and then get its head through the gate - when I give the signal, drop that fucking thing on its neck. In the meantime gather your archers - shoot its wings while you can. Got it?”

She snapped to attention and nodded.

“Got it,” she said, and Geoff nodded back before disappearing again. He flew back over to where Burnie, on the ground, was barking orders to men setting up the catapults, and quickly told him the same plan. He was just getting ready to disappear again when the dragon reared up and opened its mouth wide.

“Shit,” Geoff hissed, preparing himself for it to breathe fire - that was what dragons _did_ , right? - but it just let out another horrible roar.

Everyone around him doubled over again. The sound was terrible, pushed everything else out of your head - but in the Sight everything was dulled and Geoff was unaffected. He took the chance to fly up close to it again, and the moment it closed its mouth he appeared just in front of its nose.

“Hey you!” he cried - it lunged at him, but he flew backwards, taunting it, flying about in circles as it chased him like he was some relentless mosquito. He flew back towards the ground, hoping to draw it off the wall and into the field in front of the city, between the wall and his own encampment-

When suddenly the dragon’s head snapped up. It paused, eyes swivelling around as it seemed to search for something - then its neck stretched up and Geoff saw its gaze hone in on something inside his own camp. He followed its eyes and let himself rush forward to see what it was looking at, only to freeze.

_The barricade._

The barricade where _Jack was hiding with his body._

 _Shit_ , was all he had time to think, before the dragon launched itself into the air with enough force to send a huge chunk of the wall it’d been standing on crumbling to the ground. With pinpoint precision it swooped towards Geoff’s camp, making a beeline for the barricade.

Geoff rushed back into his body and sat up with a wheezing jolt, disoriented for a second - Jack clutched at his shoulder, grounding him.

“Geoff?” he asked - his voice distorted and distant as Geoff cleared his head. “Geoff, what’s happening-”

“Run!” Geoff forced out - he clambered to his feet and yanked at Jack’s arm. “Run, run-”

Jack looked over his shoulder, saw the dragon swooping towards them, and blanched. He sprinted, Geoff running alongside them - darting between tents as they ran through the camp. Behind them, the dragon landed on the barricade hard enough to make the whole ground tremble and half the tents around them fall over. It roared again, sweeping its tail around and knocking even more things over, looking for them.

Geoff didn’t look back - focused on dragging Jack along with him, putting distance between himself and the creature - he could hear his soldiers surging in to fight it now that it was on the ground, with roars and fearsome war cries - felt a surge of both pride and sadness at how quickly they’d moved to put themselves in danger to stop the beast from getting to him.

The dragon looked around. It caught sight of them and Geoff made eye contact with it-

Then its eyes turned to _Jack_ and flashed a brighter purple.

It lifted its wings, ready to go after them again - but with a wild cry two soldiers suddenly raced towards it, holding an enormous cauldron of boiling water from a nearby cooking stand. They heaved it up and threw it at the dragon, and it writhed, thrashing, before letting out an agonised screech and flying back towards the city. Its wings were damaged now, the soldiers having torn at them with swords and arrows, and it wasn’t flying as nimbly or as high.

“It wants you,” Jack said suddenly - he’d seen the way it targeted them - he stared at Geoff, eyes wide, but the other man shook his head. He’d seen the dragon’s gaze turned to Jack.

“No,” he replied, and his eyes went to the bag on Jack’s shoulder. He remembered the Wild crown, and everything seemed to fall into place. “No, it… it wants the crown. Just like the other beast did.”

Realisation dawned across Jack’s face. Geoff shook himself and held out a hand.

“Give it to me,” he said.

Jack didn’t ask any questions, just pulled out the crown and handed it to Geoff, who jammed it on his head and immediately called on his gift again, slipping into the Sight and flying back towards the dragon, which had landed in the fields outside the city again and was shaking itself, trying to get all the water off. He appeared floating just in front of its face, and pointed vigorously at the crown on his head.

“Hey, you overgrown lizard fuck! You want this?”

The dragon growled, eyes flashing again. It lunged towards him and he made himself disappear again, its jaws snapping through thin air. He appeared again several metres away.

“Come and get it then, you scaly bitch! Come on!”

Eyes fixed on the crown, it moved after him, snapping and snarling - he led it towards the drawbridge, the gate - appearing in intervals, leaving it moving slowly and confused. It walked on the ground now; he was projecting himself low enough and its wings were still damaged.

“Get ready!” he hollered out as he approached the gate - and then darted through and appeared on the other side, beckoning the dragon frantically. “Come and get me, then! Come on!”

It snarled and snaked its long neck through the gate, for its body was too big to fit - as soon as it was through Geoff turned to the general who he could see standing with her soldiers by the side of the gatehouse.

“Now!” he yelled. “Lower it now!”

She barked out an order, swiping her hand in a furious cutting motion, and the soldiers dropped the gate. It crashed onto the dragon’s neck with a sickening _crunch_ \- the creature howled, thrashing, sending bits of the drawbridge splintering everywhere, its lashing tail hitting the stone wall of the city with enough force to crack it-

But the soldiers kept turning the wheels of the gate’s mechanism, grinding the portcullis down further and further until with an awful _snap_ it cut clean through the dragon’s neck, and its head rolled free of its body.

After all the growling and snarling, the silence seemed deafening. For a moment the enormous body lay there, unmoving - then, it slowly crumbled away into nothing but a thick black dust that smelt faintly of gunpowder. Geoff watched it, adrenaline fading away and leaving him nothing but drained and exhausted. Beside him, the soldiers slumped against the wall or fell to their knees - some laughing hysterically, some fighting back sobs.

Geoff moved forward and looked more closely at the pile of dust. There was no way that was getting back up any time soon. He let himself slip back to his body and wobbled as he opened his eyes, Jack steadying him. They were still standing in the camp near all the fallen tents. His own soldiers were moving to assist the injured and gather the dead, helping each other up, the danger passed now.

“You okay?” Jack asked, and Geoff nodded, swallowing a few times. He was exhausted from using the Sight - he hadn’t travelled very far, but he was worn out from using it a lot over the last few days to keep in touch with Lindsay and his advisors in other cities.

“Are you?” he replied, and Jack nodded, a relieved smile flooding his face as he gripped at Geoff’s arms, either supporting him or steadying himself, it was hard to tell.

“It’s dead,” he said, a bit pointlessly, and Geoff laughed, and leaned in, and kissed him.

It felt like everything was finally over - Nutt taken care of, that sudden new danger slain - and all he could feel was relieved. Relieved that they might finally get to _stop_ \- stop worrying, stop fighting, stop being on the move - and actually make a proper go of this, because they’d been together a while now, but it had always been in the middle of all this conflict, and there was no time to slow down and take in how things might change now. Or how they might stay the same, because it had been a relief having Jack by his side in all this, just how he’d always been - a relief to have his best friend _stay_ that, even if he was now something more as well.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but the thrill hadn’t left yet, even if the way Jack reached up and cupped his cheek to tilt his head back a little was familiar by now, his warm hands, how soft his lips were. When they pulled apart Geoff leaned in for a moment and hugged him, resting his head against the other man’s shoulder. Now that it was over, he was allowed to be tired.

Except, he realised a moment later, it wasn’t quite over _yet_ , and he pulled back with a sigh.

“News of that dragon will be all over the Plains by this evening,” he said. “And then it’ll spread to every other kingdom… Nutt might be out of the way but this will cause even more hysteria. We need to find out where the hell that thing came from and if there’s more of them.”

“The fact that you killed that one so efficiently will reassure people in your leadership,” Jack pointed out, but turned to look at the huge amounts of black dust. “We should send some of that to Ryan, and to our own scientists.”

“Speaking of Ryan, the dragon came from that direction,” Geoff observed, pulling his compass from his belt. Just as he’d thought - “The Stoneworld’s that way. And the Wild. Ryan might have seen it coming. Or it might’ve attacked his kingdom first. And… and Gavin as well.”

It was the first time he’d said the other man’s name aloud in a long, long time, and his voice faltered a little. It’d been deliberate stubbornness more than anything else. If he had to refer to the other man, it was as the _fool_ or the _Wild king._

He could tell it’d hit Jack too. The other man looked shocked for a moment, then nearly upset, something going soft and sad in his eyes. But he pressed his lips together and nodded.

“We need to talk to them,” he said.

“But first,” Geoff said, “Let’s get this city sorted out. Assess the damage, put someone in charge, make sure the people are okay. Count our dead.” He looked across the camp and was relieved to see that Burnie was walking around giving orders and appeared to be fine. “Come on.”

 

* * *

 

Geoff was exhausted, but feeling in much higher spirits by the time night fell. His troops had taken up residence in Mark Nutt’s castle, and to actually sleep indoors instead of on the ground was an amazing relief - not to mention being able to bathe and finally wash off the accumulated dust and grime of the road. He fell asleep in the bathtub at some point and woke up shivering and shrivelled, the water long turned cold.

But the fireplace in the bedchambers was roaring when he went back in, the room comfortably warm. Jack was sitting on the bed, looking much cleaner and more relaxed as well. He looked up from his journal when Geoff entered, and smiled.

“I thought you’d drowned in the tub,” he said. “I was about to come check on you.”

“I fell asleep,” Geoff admitted, wandering in and making a beeline for a bottle of wine he could see on the bedtable. Jack reached over and snagged it before he could take it.

“Oh, Geoff,” he said, something fondly concerned in it. “You’re exhausted. Come here, you need to sleep.”

“There’s still too much to do,” Geoff grumbled, groggy from his impromptu and rather watery nap.

There had been a lot to take care of after Nutt’s death - meetings with the city’s leaders, appointing a new baron, sending word back to the capital, issuing warnings to every other city in the land about the dragon. Preparing watches in case another beast appeared in the night. He was completely worn out - but still. Things weren't over yet.

“We need to deal with this beast shit,” Geoff continued. “What if another one comes tonight?”

“We have watches set up,” Jack assured him. “You’re no use if you’re too tired to do anything.”

Geoff huffed - but he crawled in under the covers next to Jack anyway, heaving a sigh of relief at how soft the mattress was, how warm the blankets - luxuries he hadn’t felt in too long. Jack shifted closer to him and Geoff relaxed against his side, one arm flung loosely over him, head nestled into the crook of the other man’s neck. Jack dropped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his head. Geoff smiled a bit, but his worries quickly crept back in.

“Where did it _come_ from?” he asked. It felt like a bad dream now that it was over - now that the body had disintegrated, leaving them with nothing but the memory of the thing. That terrible sound. How _huge_ it had been. “From the descriptions I’ve heard, it was like the one that appeared in the Wild. It came from that direction. But I’ve never heard of anything like that appearing before.”

“Ryan might know more,” Jack said softly. “We need to talk to him. He’ll help us, if he thinks it’s a threat to everyone.”

Geoff hummed. Despite everything that’d happened last year, relations were actually fairly good between the Stoneworld and the Plains at this point, if not necessarily between the kings themselves. Trade between them was strong - since Gavin had the Wild crown and there was no way Ryan would trade with him, he still relied on the Plains for most of his agricultural needs. They had a mutual alliance - Ryan had even offered to send soldiers at one point, during the worst of the revolts. Geoff had refused - there had been something snide to the other man’s offer, a suggestion that Geoff couldn’t handle his own affairs and that Ryan was only stepping in to avoid having to deal with Nutt if he took over - but still.

A lot of things had happened these last eight months. A lot of things the kings had all felt - inside, with their connection to each other - not any of them good. Pain. Fear. But they were all still here - all still alive.

“The first thing we have to do is warn Michael and Ray,” Geoff muttered.

“They’re both in the desert right now,” Jack replied immediately. He kept track of that sort of thing, even now when they were on the move. He’d gone to their wedding, too, just before Nutt started to make a real push and things got really bad - he hadn’t spoken to them much, Geoff remembered. Both of them had been too busy. But with their two kingdoms united, they made a force to be reckoned with, and they’d backed Geoff when Nutt started making progress, threatened that if he took the crown they’d withdraw their alliance with the Plains - that’d scared some of his supporters back to Geoff’s side.

Still. They weren’t equipped to deal with a _dragon_ \- no one was.

“If a monster comes they’ll be unprepared,” Geoff pointed out, and sighed. “It wanted the crown. It came straight here to get it - just like the other one took the crown from the old Wild king. Why? They can’t take the gift, they’re not _human_.”

Jack looked as lost as Geoff felt.

“Sleep first,” was all he said. “And contact them in the morning. You can’t do anything worn down.”

He was right - the energy it’d take to travel all the way to the desert would exhaust him. But still. He couldn’t turn his mind off, shifting against Jack’s shoulder to try and get comfortable, unable to stop thinking about everything that was changing.

“We need to work out where these things are coming from,” he repeated. “Ryan was investigating the other one. This affects every kingdom. We… we’re gonna need a proper meeting to work this out. All of us, again, just like last time. Who else might know something?”

Jack looked away, and it hit Geoff then - the only other person who’d killed a beast like this.

 _Gavin_.

If they held a meeting, he’d have to be there. They’d see him again, after so long. _Gavin, Gavin_ \- it hurt to think about him. Geoff had tried not to, for months now - but even if he always pushed the other man away when he popped into his mind, he couldn’t help being reminded of him constantly.

He was still angry, so _angry_ \- still couldn’t quite believe what had happened. But sad now, too, as the months had worn on. He missed Gavin every day. Back at court he’d kept expecting to see him - sitting in the library reading, or doing tricks in the great hall, or sitting at the dinner table ready with a joke to lighten Geoff’s spirits during all of the havoc. Sometimes Geoff would think of something that would have amused him only to realise that he was gone now.

 _Gone_.

Who even knew where, now? Still wandering around the Wild on his own? He was still alive - Geoff could feel him - but Geoff could only imagine him living in the forest with Dan doing gods knew what.

And it still made him furious to think of the other man as a king now - every time he remembered how he’d turned on them - and worst of all, how he’d _chosen_ to leave them. Abandoning them, casting aside everything they’d built together - for what? Power? To prove a point?

 _How could he not know how we felt_?

It was easier to hold on to his anger than to have to face up to things. And this war had been a distraction - so had Jack, and things moving along between them - but even as they did there was the constant ghost of Gavin hanging over them, reminding them that once they’d thought there’d be three of them involved in all this.

Jack - who looked upset too, now, obviously swallowing it back, struggling to hide it. Geoff had been insistent about neither of them talking about Gavin. Had wanted just to try to _forget_. But he knew Jack missed him, just as much as Geoff did. And he didn’t like the look the other man had in his eyes now, something far too old and sad.

He opened his mouth, but Jack spoke first - voice tight, abrupt.

“Gavin always had - _has_ \- something up his sleeve,” he said. “Some ridiculous plan or fact that turns out to be useful - a way to kill a beast; hell, he killed the other one alone with barely any fighting skills. Or he’ll know stories and myths, he’s always been able to pull out funny things like that when we least expected it.” He took a deep breath, and when he continued his voice was less strained. “And Michael’s strong. Ryan’s clever. Ray’s studied strategy for years. Between all five of you, you can work out what’s going on. Better that we’re working together than in competition like we were last time.”

“Yeah, things just went so well that time,” Geoff muttered, but Jack squeezed his arm.

“You’re all on the same side now,” he pointed out. “And a common enemy is something this kingdom needs right now, not to be torn apart from the inside.”

“And Gavin?” Gods, it still made his heart wrench to say his name aloud after so many months - but he forced himself to continue, even when Jack’s face twisted. “Seeing him again, what will that do?”  
  
Jack swallowed hard, but kept his face carefully blank.

“It’s been eight months, Geoff,” he said, softly. “A lot changes in time like that. When we see him… he might not be the same.”

“It already feels like we lost him,” Geoff replied. “We already… already _dealt_ with that. Having to be around him again-”

“You’re not asking _our_ Gavin for help,” Jack cut in. “You’re asking the Wild king. That’s what he is now. Not some fool, anymore, not… not our friend.”

Geoff stared at him. Jack stared back, and his eyes were a little red, and they hadn’t _discussed_ this, not back when it happened, not when they got together, not any time when they probably should’ve - fell back into old, bad habits of leaving things unsaid, not dealing with them - but he hadn’t thought that was how Jack thought about things. Had assumed he had always clung to that hope that things could be the same again.

“That’s what you think?” he asked softly, and for a moment Jack’s face faltered - but he swallowed again.

“When it comes to this,” he said, firmly, “That’s how it is.”

“And the rest of it?”

Jack looked away.

“Who knows how he feels after all this time,” he murmured, and looked up at Geoff again. “But no matter what, you and I have each other. There’ll always be that.”

Geoff stared at him for a long moment. It felt like a lie, that Jack didn’t still think of Gavin as _theirs_ , that maybe he didn’t care any more - but he wasn’t in the mood to argue about it, and after a moment he lay back down and snuggled in against Jack’s side again, turning his face to press a kiss to the other man’s shoulder. No more wasting time, at least between the two of them - too much had been wasted already.

“You think they’ll give me an epic name like _Dragonslayer_?” he asked instead, and Jack laughed.

“The gate killed the dragon, not you,” he said, and Geoff huffed.

“Come on. I came up with the plan.”

“I’m sure at least one ballad will be written about all this,” Jack replied, and Geoff smiled, closing his eyes, already feeling the pull of sleep.

Tomorrow, he’d visit Michael and Ray - arrange for something to be done about all this. For now, he would rest - and not think about the dragon yet, or what else might be coming - or how for the first time since that last terrible incident, all five kings might see each other once again.

 

* * *

 

Michael fidgeted and pulled at the too-tight collar of his shirt. It felt like it was choking him. Either that or he was slowly boiling to death in his own sweat in here.

It was too hot in the desert. He seemed to be feeling it more now than he had as a child, when he’d run around carefree in the scorching courtyards of the palace, uncaring of how he’d turn lobster red at the end of every day. When he’d stay here with Ray, and not feel homesick in the slightest - it had been novel, back then, being somewhere so warm compared to the Alps.

Now it just felt oppressive, like an overly thick blanket wrapped around him as he stared out the window at the people in their colourful robes milling about in the markets just outside the palace gates.

He wanted to go home.

He wanted to go home, except there was no escape from here, not from all _this_ \- and it wasn’t just the weather that was making him feel trapped as all hell. He huffed out a breath and turned away from the window, but even then had nowhere to go, standing in the empty bedroom that felt like a prison cell.

There were roses, next to him, in a vase on the windowsill. In the heat they’d swelled and were just on the verge of wilting - they smelled pungent and too-sweet, cloying like perfume. Ray had grown them for him on their wedding day - some sort of Desert king tradition, apparently - and every night he’d revive them so that they’d never die. Michael had killed a wild mountain cat for him, prepared a cloak of its skin himself, but it was too hot to wear that here. Two useless gifts that were nothing but symbols, now.

The door opened suddenly and he jumped a little. It was Ray who entered, dragging a trolley behind him, and there was a slightly awkward pause as they noticed each other.

“Hey,” he said, and Michael swallowed.

“Hey.”

“Breakfast is here,” Ray said, gesturing at the trolley and the tray balanced neatly on top. The usual fare - flatbread, thin strips of chicken, an assortment of sweet fruits-

“What the fuck is that?” Michael demanded, his gaze falling on a large and rather out of place dish, balanced proudly upon a tall stand above the rest of the food.

Ray glanced down. His lips twisted.

“A cake,” he said.

Michael stared at him.

“ _Why_?”

“Don’t you remember?” Ray sneered, and snatched up a knife, vigorously stabbing into the cake and cutting out a slice with jerking, choppy motions. “It’s our six month anniversary.”

Michael could only stare. Even he had to admit, it was a rather impressive cake - tall, and covered in thick white icing, with little sugar flower decorations all over it. It was a nice gesture from the kitchen staff - they weren’t to know exactly what a farce this whole sorry business was.

“It’s been that long already?” he asked, and Ray paused, turning towards him.

“What?” he replied, voice harsh and defensive. “Time wasn’t dragging by for you? I’d’ve thought it’d feel like six _years_ since you hate this all so much.”

Michael grit his teeth, trying not to rise to the bait. He knew he’d fail. There was already annoyance simmering up in his gut, threatening to bubble over - it did too easily, nowadays.

The wedding had been terrible. He’d felt sick the whole time. They’d had to put on a show of it - gotten all dressed up, smiled for the people - it’d felt like every citizen in the whole land had been there, too many scrutinising gazes fixed on them - the effort to _pretend_ had been immense. And it didn’t help that he and Ray had barely seen each other in the two months beforehand. Had never resolved everything that’d happened before that. By the time he was walking down the aisle all he’d wanted was to turn and run away. It had all looked splendid, of course - but it was nothing like what he’d imagined when he’d planned this whole thing.

And now - _everything_ was terrible. Every day, every time he saw Ray, every second he spent here in this damned palace.

“Why’d they make us a cake?” he snapped.

“I don’t know, maybe people are _happy_ for us?” Ray shot back. “This is great for our kingdoms, you know! I mean, everything’s going swimmingly. Booming trade. No threats from anyone else. That uprising in the Plains died down significantly when we threatened to withdraw our support if Nutt won. We’re both more popular than ever.” He snorted, loudly, and threw up his hands. “We’re pretty much on top. What’s not to celebrate, right?”

Michael could think of plenty. The fact that he’d lost his best friend. That living this lie was putting so much strain on them and they weren’t anything resembling comfortable around each other any more, not like they had been for years, everything they’d built up torn apart.

He could see Ray waiting for him to snap back - to get in an argument with him the way they had just about every day for the last six months. Mocking words disguised as sweet ones, playing up the whole _husband_ spiel while making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be here.

But Michael was tired now, and he suddenly couldn’t take it any more. It was too hot. It felt like there was no air in the room, like he was burning alive.

“I want to go back to the Alps,” he said, abruptly.

“It’s not time yet,” Ray replied, instantly. “We go back there in a month.”

Michael swallowed.

“I want to go back,” he repeated, “And I think you should stay here.”

Ray froze. He’d been eating dates out of a bowl on the breakfast tray. Now for the first time one of Michael’s arguments made him pause - then look up, slowly, face carefully blank. Michael stared back at him, perfectly serious.

“Why?” Ray asked finally.

Michael took a deep breath. He’d said so many things these last few months - _yelled_ so many things - harsh truths, and too many things that he didn’t mean, that he wished he hadn’t - yet somehow now this was the hardest, if only for how worn down and vulnerable he felt. He wasn’t spitting this. His voice was quiet, and calm.

“We’re married,” he said slowly, “But that’s all this is, all along this has just been for the politics. Why keep up this - this - this _sham_ , why keep pretending we _want_ to live together and - and _be_ together…” He trailed off, gathering himself, and took another deep breath.

“We’re married,” he repeated. “It’s a contract. It’s on paper. We’ve tied our kingdoms together like we planned. Why bother with all the rest of it? What else do we even need from this?”

“Okay,” Ray said, and his face was cold now as he straightened up and turned to face Michael properly. “Okay, well how about fucking public opinion? Did you think about that? Gods, Michael, if you want to break up-”

“How can we break up when we’re not even together?” Michael demanded. He saw the shocked confusion on Ray’s face, and let out a harsh laugh. “It’s true, you know it’s true, we’re _not_. We’re married but we don’t love each other. And I don’t want a divorce, Ray, I’m just saying - there’s no need to keep _pretending_ like everything is fine, because we both know it’s not and soon other people will start seeing that as well. Why not just rule our own kingdoms and let this be what it always has been? An alliance. Nothing more.”

“Because,” Ray hissed out through gritted teeth, “We can’t have anyone thinking we’re _weak_ , Michael - or have you forgotten why you came up with this in the first place? That’s why we went through with it. That’s why we had a big, showy wedding in front of everyone else. That’s why we did it so soon after Gavin took the crown. Because we need a united front - because we need _more_ than just a contract. Contracts can be broken. People need to know that we’re loyal to each other.”

Michael stared at him, jaw clenched, unable to think of anything to say - and after a moment Ray let out a bitter laugh.

“Loyal,” he scoffed again. “That’s right - didn’t you used to pride yourself on that?”

“I’m just sick of being here,” Michael forced out. “I’m sick of _this_ , I’m sick of-”

 _You_. He stopped himself before he said it, but he saw the way Ray flinched - the first visible hurt he’d shown in months. And since they got married - Michael had found it hard to tell what he’d been thinking. What he wanted from all this - how things had changed for him.

If he was still in love with Michael, he had a funny way of showing it. All they did nowadays was snap and sneer - clearly uncomfortable in each other’s presence.

Now, Ray schooled his face into a glare. He shook his head, something mockingly disappointed in it.

“I didn’t think you’d be the first one to break,” he said.

“I’m not _breaking_ ,” Michael snapped, unable to help the way his hackles rose - he’d put up with all this for so long, hated the guilt he always felt that he’d been the one to ruin things - because Ray had never said anything, but Michael couldn’t help but feel sometimes like he was the villain here for not being able to love him back. It was nonsensical, but he still didn’t like it, didn’t like to feel like he was the one disappointing everyone. “What the fuck do you mean, anyway?”

“You want to leave. You can’t stand the heat, right? You came up with this _dumbass_ plan,” Ray spat, genuine venom in his voice, “And now you’re backing out of it? Gods’ sake. _I’m_ the one who - who - who this was hardest for,” and there was pain in it now, “But at least _I_ have a sense of _duty-_ ”

“Duty’s what got us into this fucking mess-”

“No, _you_ got us into this fucking mess!” Ray yelled, and Michael took a furious step forward.

“You’re the one who made it awkward!” he screamed back, and Ray fell silent, eyes widening. Michael stared at him, breathing heavily - after a moment he barked out a harsh laugh.

“Hardest for _you_ ,” he sneered. “What do you mean, this has been hardest for you? Do you know how fucking hard it’s been for _me_? Having to put up with all your glaring and sulking - you’re mad at me for something I have no control over…”

He trailed off, feeling sick, but there was something too familiar about everything they were saying. It was practically rehearsed. This was a fight they’d had so many times by now, over the last six months - it wasn’t even new. Little jabs at each other, placing blame whenever things were strained or they had to do things together in the court. And when they did have to spend time with each other in public, it was full of mocking _yes dears_ or _anything for my husband_ , playing it up, removing any semblance of genuine affection. They’d been doing this for months, just - over and over and over and he was _sick of it_.

Ray was staring at him in a self-righteous silence, and Michael cut a hand angrily through the air.

“Not to mention,” he added, “We’d’ve won the crown if you hadn’t been so fucking petty.”

“The crown doesn’t matter,” Ray replied tightly. “It would’ve been stolen no matter who won it. Oh wait - remind me again, who made it so easy for Gavin to take your sword? Wasn’t it _you_ who let him right in - left the _window open_ ,” he sing-songed, mockingly, “For him to climb through, like some fucking fairytale. You dumb _bitch_ , Michael, you caused all this - that’s why we needed to get married. So at least one person in this relationship has some fucking brains. So don’t act like marrying me is some _huge favour_ you did to my kingdom, because you would be fucking nowhere without me running things.”

Michael scowled at him, furious and hurt, his pride wounded - and he knew, he _knew_ Ray didn’t quite mean all that, and they’d both attacked a thousand things about each other in all their fights before. But in the moment it still hurt.

“Fuck you, Ray,” he spat.

“I hate you,” Ray shot back immediately, and for the first time sounded like he meant it - Michael faltered, then the anger rose back up - _not my fault_.

“I hate you more,” he heard himself yell, childish as it was.

“Good!” Ray cried, and threw his hands up. “I don’t care!”

“Fine!”

“ _Fine_!”

On impulse, Michael seized the vase of flowers from the windowsill next to him and threw it to the floor. It shattered, water spilling out against the floorboards - the flowers scattered, and the roses were old enough by now that some of them broke, the heads rolling away from the stems, petals strewn across the floor.

Ray flinched at the noise, and gasped as he took in the mess. Michael stood, breathing heavily, a little startled by his own reaction, but then Ray’s face clouded over - more furious than Michael had ever seen him. He turned around, and for a moment Michael thought he was going to storm out-

But then he paused, grabbed the cake from the breakfast tray, and spun around, hurling it at Michael as hard as he could.

Michael ducked - the cake hit the wall behind his head and practically exploded, icing and bits of sponge flying all over the place - for a moment he couldn’t quite believe what’d happened.

“Holy _shit_ ,” he yelled, and stared at the mess - there was icing in his hair, and on his face, and everything smelt like sugar - he turned to Ray incredulously and screamed, “What the _fuck_ , Ray, why would you fucking _do that_?”

“Because fuck you!” Ray yelled back, “And fuck this whole fucking marriage! Go back to the Alps, I don’t care! You’ll just look like an idiot who’s throwing a tantrum!”

“I’m throwing a tantrum? _I’m_ throwing a tantrum?” Michael demanded. For a moment he couldn’t continue, mouth opening and shutting soundlessly before he yelled, “You threw a _fucking cake at me_!”

“I hope you choke on it and die!”  

Michael stared at him. And then, in what he would later tell himself was a moment of extreme and uncontrollable passion, he grabbed the nearest and largest chunk of cake off the floor and lobbed it right back at Ray.

It hit him square in the chest with a sorry-sounding _splat_ before falling slowly to the floor, leaving a trail of white icing on his robes. Ray stared down at it, shocked - then scowled again and with a furious roar overturned the entire breakfast tray, flinging its contents in Michael’s general direction.

Naturally, Geoff chose this moment to appear in the middle of the room, just in time for a boiled egg to fly through the middle of his incorporeal form.

“ _Fuck_!” he shrieked, ducking instinctively - both of them had frozen at his sudden appearance, and he looked around the room, taking in the mess, before glancing between the two of them. “What the _fuck_ , guys?”

“Geoff,” Michael said, sheepishly - his anger had fizzled away at the other man’s sudden appearance, like a child being caught by an adult doing something forbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Ray straightened up guiltily, making a futile effort to wipe the icing off his shirt.

“What the hell is going on here?” Geoff demanded. His eyes tracked the smashed cake on the wall behind Michael, the food scattered all over the floor. “Are you having a fucking food fight? I’m fighting a gods damned war over here and you two are throwing cake at each other! I can’t believe this!”

“He started it,” Michael couldn’t help saying, pettily, and Ray shot him a filthy look. Geoff looked distinctly unimpressed, and Michael sighed, straightening up. “What’s going on, Geoff?”

Geoff shook his head again, but also fell back into seriousness. He looked different, Michael noticed - his beard had grown out, and it made him look older. There was a thin new scar across his temple, and he looked tired.

“We have a situation,” he said.

“What sort of situation?” Ray asked. “What’s happening? Is it Nutt?”

“He’s dead.”

“You finally killed him,” Michael said, relieved - the conflict in the Plains had been worrying him for some time, but as much as he liked Geoff it would’ve been foolish to intervene since it didn’t yet affect his own kingdom.

“No,” Geoff replied, and Michael frowned, confused - “The dragon did.”

“What the fuck,” Michael said - Ray had jerked, as confused as he was, and for a moment they exchanged glances. “Okay, maybe lead with that next time - did you say a _dragon_?”

“It appeared out of nowhere,” Geoff said, perfectly serious. “It came from the North - the Stoneworld, or maybe the Wild. It looked like the other beast - black, with strange energy around it. And it was after the crown.”

“Shit,” Michael said. Geoff clearly wasn’t joking about this - he wouldn’t make an exhausting trip all the way here just to play a trick on them.

Ray looked thoughtful.

“If there was one,” he muttered, “There could be more.”

“Exactly,” Geoff agreed. “The beast was the first; it took the Wild crown. This was the second - and somehow, I doubt this is the last we’ll see of these things.”

Michael couldn’t even imagine it. A dragon - stories of them weren’t as prominent in the Alps as the other kingdoms, but even he knew what they were meant to be. He couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like to see one in person.

“You killed it?” he asked, and Geoff nodded.

“Yes, but it wasn’t easy. It took down a lot of men and part of the city. And we were already on war footing - if we’d been unprepared, it would’ve been even worse.”

“Fuck,” Michael muttered, and Ray looked away, something terribly worried on his face.

“I’m going to contact Ryan and arrange a meeting,” Geoff continued. “I’ll let you know once I’ve spoken to him. In the meantime, keep an eye out. Brief your men. And if anything strange shows up - cut its head off.”

“A meeting?” Ray asked, and Geoff nodded.

“Yeah.” He gave a tight smile. “All of us.”

Michael couldn’t help glancing at Ray again, and the other man exchanged a look with him - a brief, rare moment of camaraderie, the two of them clearly thinking the same thing - Geoff noticed, and sighed.

“Yes, Gavin too,” he said, remarkably calmly. “If it came from the Wild, we’ll need his help. Now, are the two of you okay to leave your kingdoms and come to the Stoneworld to talk about this? Nothing urgent going on you can’t leave?”

“No,” both of them said at the same time, and shot each other a startled look. Ray recovered first, shaking himself and turning back to Geoff.

“We’re fine,” he said, and Geoff raised an eyebrow. He cast a measuring look between the two of them, and Michael scowled.

“We’re _fine_ ,” he said as well, and Geoff nodded slowly.

“Okay then,” he said, and clapped his hands together. “I’ll be in contact with you as soon as I’ve spoken with Ryan. In the meantime, you’d better warn your people - get ready in case something shows up after your crown.”

“Geoff,” Michael said - the other man turned to him. “Warn my counsellors in the Alps for me about this. It’ll take days for me to send a message to them.”

“Will do,” Geoff said, and disappeared again, leaving the room uncomfortably silent and the two of them reeling to take in this new development.

“A fucking dragon,” Michael said finally. “Well. Isn’t this just what we need.”

“It’ll be strange seeing all the others again,” Ray murmured absently, and Michael looked up to find him staring at the roses strewn on the ground. “Ryan.”

“Gavin,” Michael added, and they looked up, their eyes meeting awkwardly before they both turned away, Michael grabbing up a tea towel to wipe his hands with.

“I need to send letters to my court instructing them of what to do,” he said abruptly, crossing over to the desk. He looked over his shoulder at Ray. “Unless there’s anything else you need.”

“Sounds like I have a lot to do too,” Ray said flatly, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Michael’s shoulders slumped. He looked around at the mess on the floor, and felt sick.

A dragon. Mysterious beasts appearing all over the place. It felt like everything was about to fall apart. Once he would’ve been reassured to have Ray on his side. Now, he felt like the dread that had been building up in him since Gavin took the crown had reached its peak - like the bad things he’d been waiting for had finally come, and after eight months of strained relations with Ray now they would be forced to confront whatever this was together.

This had ruined them. This whole sorry business.

But here they were. The last time all the kings met, everything had changed, the kingdoms, their entire world shaped by how things had turned out. And now they were to meet again - he’d see Ryan again, see _Gavin_ \- who knew how things might change this time?

 

* * *

 

Ryan was sitting on his throne, speaking to several members of his court when Geoff rushed into the room and materialised on the steps in front of him. The courtiers jumped a mile, exclaiming in surprise - but Ryan didn’t so much as blink as Geoff strode up to him.

“Everyone leave,” he ordered, waving a hand at his people. “The Plains king and I have business.”

Once their initial shock was over, none of them seemed surprised to see him. They bowed and quickly left the room, the big doors to the throne room shutting behind them and leaving the two men in the empty and silent hall. Geoff watched them go before turning back to Ryan.

He looked different nowadays. He had a neatly trimmed beard, and his hair had grown out and was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. But it wasn’t just his physical appearance - there was something darker in his eyes, something calculating. Geoff had thought him intimidating before, but it didn’t even compare to now, and how closed-off and cold he was. Perhaps this was how he had imagined Ryan, before - but it wasn’t reality, not until now.

“Ryan,” he greeted.

“Geoff,” Ryan replied evenly, and Geoff swallowed.

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself.

Ryan gave a tight smile.

“I should hope so,” he said. “Anyone would look a little worse for wear when they’d nearly just died.”

His hand went almost unconsciously to his side, and Geoff’s eyes tracked the movement. He remembered the sudden stabbing shock he’d felt, just over three months ago - the abrupt weakening of the bond that connected him to Ryan, how it’d felt like the other man was slipping away faster than he could catch him.

It’d alarmed him - Jack had seen in his face right away that something had happened. _What is it,_ he’d said, _what’s wrong_ , but all Geoff could do was gasp out Ryan’s name, again and again as it felt like he was losing his grip on the invisible threads that connected their souls, like that terrible emptiness he’d felt when the Wild king died was about to flood back in.

Everyone else must have felt it too - Michael, Ray. Gavin. Eventually it’d stabilised, and he’d known the other man was okay - he’d been relieved. He couldn’t tell why - perhaps because Ryan had no heir, because his death would leave uncertainty.

“How are you recovering?” he asked now, and Ryan tilted his head.

“Excellently,” he replied drily. “The knife missed most vital organs.”

“And you found out who sent the assassin?”

“I have dealt with him,” Ryan said, with ominous vagueness. “But you’re not here for smalltalk. You’re here about the dragon.”

Geoff straightened up, his intent for travelling here returning to him.

“You saw it,” he said, and Ryan nodded.

“It flew over my lands,” he replied. “The people were terrified. I was ready to have the golems attack it, but it didn’t stop - just flew on towards the Plains with some single-minded purpose. It was no mindless beast. It wanted something. Something in your kingdom.”

“It wanted the crown,” Geoff replied, and Ryan tilted his head.

“Interesting,” he observed. “The fool said the beast was wearing the Wild crown when he killed it.”

Geoff’s lips twisted. Ryan kept his mask well, but there was something too deliberately casual in the way he brought up Gavin.

“Yeah, well, the fool was right,” he replied, “Because it went straight for mine too. Luckily I killed it, but it wasn’t easy.”

Ryan gave a thoughtful hum before trailing off into silence, tapping at his chin. Geoff stood, watching him. The pause stretched on and he felt suddenly very helpless - like a student waiting for answers. If anyone could work out what was going on here, it was Ryan - like it or not, he had far more experience investigating things like this than Geoff did.

“What are they, Ryan?” he asked finally. It came out more vulnerable than he liked, but he was worn down and tired and _scared_ , even if he’d never admit it.

Ryan looked up and gave a slow shrug.

“I have no idea,” he replied, and Geoff stared at him - Ryan rose from his chair and began to pace, hands clasped behind his back as Geoff stood still, watching him. “My captain of the guard called the previous creature a _minotaur_.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Geoff said. “They’re just a myth.”

“Dragons are a myth too,” Ryan mused. “Just old stories…”

He trailed off, and Geoff bit his lip, troubled by the lack of answers.

“It came from the Wild,” Ryan said finally. “We need to find out exactly where it sprang from. The other one did, too - clearly that is the best place to start looking.”

“You turned up nothing in your experiments?” Geoff asked.

“Only that the dust they turn into has similar properties to Endermen,” Ryan replied. “Again, the Wild holds our answers.”

“I have more of the dust to give you,” Geoff said. “I’ll bring it. We need to all meet and come up with a plan, here - Michael and Ray too. The next beast might go for their crowns.”

“All of us,” Ryan repeated slowly - Geoff glanced up at him, but he just nodded slowly. “That seems to be the best course of action.”

“Here?” Geoff asked.

“The Stoneworld is closest to the Wild,” Ryan replied. “It seems once again you will be enjoying my hospitality.” He paused, turned away from Geoff, who could see his hands clasping each other tightly behind his back. “And we’ll need to talk to Free.”

Geoff shifted uncomfortably. After a moment Ryan turned to look at him. His face was very blank and Geoff couldn’t help feeling some odd camaraderie with him. As much as he disliked the other man, the two of them had been the most hurt by all that went on last year. They had that in common, at least.

“Have you spoken to him since…” he trailed off, but Ryan got the idea.

“No,” he said, flatly. “Have you?”

Geoff shook his head.

“No.” It came out too soft, too unsure, and Ryan heaved a sigh.

“He is alive,” he replied, “That we know. And seems to have gathered a band of similarly feral friends in that forest of his. They destroy my golems and send them back to me defaced. Gods know what else they’re getting up to in there. But he will come to meet with us. He would have seen the dragon.”

“He must have felt what happened to you a few months ago,” Geoff murmured, and Ryan’s face flickered over with some expression too quick for Geoff to catch.

“He didn’t reach out,” he said, curtly, and shook himself. “I can send him a message. When shall we meet?”

“Three weeks,” Geoff replied. “That’ll give all of us time to make travel arrangements.”

He was relieved he wouldn’t have to speak to Gavin, to venture into the Wild and appear to him alone. This gave him time to prepare himself to see the other man - meant he’d have Jack by his side when they did meet again. Ryan just nodded.

“You killed the dragon,” he murmured. “At least we know they’re not indestructible. But this whole situation is still… concerning.”

Geoff snorted.

“That’s one way of putting it! We’ll deal with it,” he added, to reassure himself more than anything, and Ryan gave a tight smile.

“Oh, I will,” he said, and turned away. “I’ll see you in three weeks. Tell Michael and Ray not to be late.”

“See you then,” Geoff replied.

It felt different in the Sight, not being here in person with Ryan - less hostility, less tension between them since Geoff wasn’t actually physically present. The shared threat against their kingdoms helped, too - Geoff hesitated abruptly.

Part of him wanted to ask how Ryan felt about all this - about meeting again, about _Gavin_ \- if he was scared, too. If he felt as out of his depth as Geoff did.

He didn’t know why he cared, suddenly. Just that they were all in this together, and it’d been eight months, and he’d felt Ryan nearly die and what it was like to almost lose one of them and he didn’t know what he’d _do_ , now, if they lost a king.

It was different with Ray’s father, with Michael’s - they’d been of a different generation. The Wild king had barely counted.

But now, the five of them - there was a balance between them, something that made their bond feel deeper than it ever had with the previous kings Geoff had been connected to. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, only knew that he didn’t want it disrupted.

But they had a bigger threat to deal with now, and soon enough they’d all be together again. He shook off his thoughts, gave Ryan a final glance, and let himself fade away and return to his body in the Plains. They had a lot to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanart from the previous story:
> 
> [King Ray](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146046397009/birdscribbles-ray-as-the-rose-king-inspired-by) by birdscribbles
> 
> [Ryan and Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/144183665444/justisaisfine-this-has-been-sitting-on-my-table) by justisaisfine
> 
> [King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/143350394524/justisaisfine-its-pulling-at-my-hair-and) by justisaisfine
> 
> [The Wild King](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/142731935044/star-of-my-heart-so-here-is-your-wild-king) by star-of-my-heart
> 
> [Cover](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/142616279774/greatahw-wip-of-whalehuntingboyfriends-story) by greatahw
> 
> [Gavin on the throne](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/142602619419/starlightsruby-all-hail-the-wild-king-man) by starlightsruby
> 
> Thank you so much, they're all amazing! <3
> 
>  


	2. Chapter 2

As Michael approached the Stoneworld capital, he felt an odd sense of deja vu. He had dreamed about this place since the last time he was here - nonsensical things, exploring all the different ways things might’ve played out - it felt like that, now, like he’d been flung back into his memories of approaching the city for the first time, for the games - not knowing that when he left, everything would be different.

Except this time, Ray was with him.

“The fuck are those?” he breathed, bringing his horse up beside Michael’s as they approached the gates.

“Ryan’s metal army,” Michael murmured back. They’d heard tales of these golems. When he didn’t win the crown, Ryan had gone to pains to make sure everyone knew he was still a force to be reckoned with. “Holy shit - I didn’t think there’d be so _many_.”

Indeed - there were golems at the gate, all along the tops of the wall - and, as they entered the city, in the streets.

The haunting cry of the horn rang out, announcing their arrival, and as they passed along the main road towards the fortress, people began to emerge from their homes and shops to watch - and the golems did, too. Some had stood as security guards, others were working on the railtrack leading from the mines. The citizens paid no attention to them as they joined the crowds - had to have grown used to them by now - but there were as many golems as people, and the sea of blank grey faces watching them go by was unsettling.

“They’re fucking creepy,” he heard Ray mutter, and Michael glanced over at him. Ray looked back at him, and his face was stony. They hadn’t spoken much the entire trip here.

“Gavin has his mobs,” he continued. “Ryan has these. And we have _this_.”

He nodded towards their delegation, and Michael followed his gaze.

They hadn’t brought many men - wanted as many as possible back in their cities in case something attacked. But the combined force of Michael’s fur-clad warriors and Ray’s soldiers made a formidable sight. Separate, they would not have looked much of a threat. Together, they weren’t a group you’d want to mess with.

“Right,” he replied flatly, and turned away, focused on riding.

 

* * *

 

“Is he late?” Ray asked finally, when the kings had been sitting in a thoroughly awkward silence for nearly an hour.

Ryan glanced up at the timepiece on the wall.

“Technically, no,” he said. “We never set a meeting time. Just said _today_.”

“So he could theoretically show up seconds to midnight,” Ray muttered.

Ryan tilted his head. He didn’t smile, but once Michael might’ve fancied there was amusement in his eyes.

“Theoretically, an asshole who likes to be too clever for his own good might think that a funny idea. So yes, it is possible.”

Ray mumbled something disgruntled under his breath, and slumped forward, resting his arms on the table again. Michael watched him from where he sat opposite, shifting uncomfortably. Ryan’s stone chairs were basically torture devices; they forced you to sit up straight and he’d never had the best posture, or table manners.

Across the table, Geoff sighed a little, and Jack, beside him, squeezed his hand. They’d arrived just after Michael and Ray, and once the initial pleasantries and briefings on the situation were over, it became very clear that no one had any fucking idea how to act around each other. Ryan was cold and aloof - Geoff not hitting the other man with his usual barbs. Michael wasn’t sure why. Maybe war, and stress, and politics had just worn all of them down, drained away those last dregs of immaturity.

Then again, three weeks ago he and Ray had been throwing _cake_ at each other. Maybe not so mature after all.

And, as the hour wore on, it seemed to get to Geoff - he’d been twitchy and distracted since arriving, and given how the messy breakdown of his relationship with Gavin was burned into _everyone’s_ memory, Michael could hardly blame him.

“Fucking hell, Ryan,” Geoff snapped finally, after ten more minutes of uneasy silence seemed to send him to a breaking point. “Do you really feel the need for everything you do to be offset by villainous mood lighting, or can you make it a bit fucking brighter in here? It’s like sitting in a fucking cave!”

Michael couldn’t help his loud snort. It was true; most of the hall was indeed very shadowy.

Ryan didn’t so much as blink - just raised a hand lazily. Suddenly the redstone lamps on the walls shone so brightly that they nearly blinded everyone - Ray cried out, covering his eyes, everyone else grunting and squeezing their eyes shut, cowering against the glow.

“Fuck!” Michael hissed. “Real mature, Ryan!”

“You asked for light,” he replied flatly. “I gave you light.”

“Ryan,” Jack said, softly. “We’re all on the same side, here.”

“That’s _‘my lord’_ to you,” Ryan replied curtly, and Michael couldn’t help his muffled noise of surprise - they’d all seen how close Jack and Geoff were last time, to the point where Michael always held him in his mind as being on level with the rest of them. Hell, even now Geoff had invited him to their meeting. It was easy to forget that he wasn’t actually one of them - but he’d thought Ryan liked Jack. He’d seen them speaking a number of times when they last met.

Still - Ryan did dim the lights, and they all relaxed in relief. Michael opened his eyes just in time to see the flash of hurt that briefly crossed Jack’s face-

But Geoff was already leaning forward with a scowl.

“Actually, he’ll call you whatever he fucking wants,” he said.

“He is not a king,” Ryan shot back, coldly.

“Geoff,” Jack murmured, warningly, one hand on his arm. “It’s fine. I forgot myself-”

“He might not be a king,” Geoff snarled. “But he’s a king consort and the heir to my fucking throne.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Then Michael sat up straight, eyes huge - Ryan’s eyebrows rose, Ray jolted-

Jack drew back from Geoff, mouth dropping open in surprise. Geoff himself sat, cheeks furious and red, gaze fixed on Ryan.

“King consort,” Ryan repeated slowly. “I was not aware there’d been a royal wedding.”

“Soon-to-be consort, then,” Geoff snapped, voice tight.

“Oh. In that case, my apologies, _prince_.” There was a mocking note in Ryan’s voice - Jack was still staring at Geoff, making it abundantly clear that this was as new a development to him as it was to everyone else. “And how long have you been engaged?”

“Ten seconds, apparently,” Jack replied, his voice startlingly high pitched. He shook himself and leaned in, but the acoustics of the hall unfortunately let them all hear as he hissed, “What the _fuck_ , Geoff, you can’t just propose to me to make a point to Ryan!”

“Oh my fucking gods,” Ray said - Michael could not quite believe this was happening in front of him.

_What the fuck, Geoff_ , he thought - hysterically amused, but also rather confused - _I know you’ve had a stressful time lately, but this is taking spontaneous to a new fucking level…_

“Oh my,” Ryan said, wickedly - he was grinning openly now, a stark contrast to his previously cold demeanour. “So this is a _proposal!_ Goodness me, we’re making this a tradition. When more than three kings gather in one spot, it seems someone always feels the need to offer their hand in marriage.” He glanced at Michael and Ray, and Michael shifted uncomfortably, the sudden thought striking him that Geoff and Jack might just be making a political move like he and Ray had - but he could tell, from how mortified Geoff looked now and the shock in Jack’s eyes, that this certainly wasn’t planned.

“Either way,” Geoff ground out, jaw clenched, “You will respect him.”

“Oh, certainly,” Ryan said, but wasn’t about to let him go that easily. “But Geoff, what a terrible way to propose. You didn’t give him a chance to say yes or no - didn’t even get on one knee! Do you even have a ring, or was this just a spontaneous romantic decision? Don’t worry, you can borrow one of mine.”

He slid one of the ruby signet rings off his finger and held it out to Geoff - the other man scowled at him, but Ryan lifted his chin _challengingly_ \- and the smug look on his face was all it took. Michael knew Geoff would never back down. They were similar like that - he knew he wouldn’t have either, stupid and impulsive as it was.

Glowering, Geoff snatched the ring and turned to Jack, who looked terribly alarmed.

“Geoff,” he warned, but the other man was already getting down on one knee. Michael leaned in to see better, Ray watching too, rapt - even Ryan leaned forward eagerly, curious to see how this played out-

Jack looked on the verge of shitting himself as Geoff opened his mouth. But before he could say anything, that familiar horn blast rang out, echoing through the hall, and they all jumped, save Ryan, who leaned back in his seat.

“Saved by the fool’s arrival,” he observed. Jack looked ready to praise every god in heaven and then some. “It seems the Wild king has finally graced us with his presence.”

 

* * *

 

Michael’s heart was pounding furiously as they stood in the courtyard outside the Great Hall, waiting for Gavin to arrive. He hadn’t thought he’d be this nervous.

He glanced around at the others, but save Jack, who looked both hopeful and terrified, their faces were unreadable, carefully blank, and it made Michael feel unexpectedly vulnerable that his own uncertainty might be on display. He wasn’t sure why he cared what Gavin thought of him. But here they were.

It had been fifteen minutes since the horn sounded - but there was no sign of Gavin yet. As Ryan began to tap his foot impatiently, Kerry rode into the courtyard. Gavin should’ve been with him. He wasn’t.

“Kerry,” Ryan snapped. “I thought the fool had arrived.”

“He did, sire,” Kerry replied nervously. “But Mica has him detained in the outer bailey.”

“Why?” Ryan asked. “He was invited.”

“He’s, ah, brought rather a lot of mobs with him,” Kerry replied. “He refuses to enter without them. The people are afraid.”

“I see,” Ryan said - exchanging a glance with Geoff, who stared back, stone-faced.

Michael didn’t know what to think. _What the fuck are you playing at, Gavin?_

“You gonna let him in?” Ray asked, and Ryan looked over at him briefly.

“Let me see this army of mobs,” he replied, and started for the gate - the others trailed after him, and Kerry raised a hand.

“My lord?” he called out, and grimaced. “I should also mention that, uh - he’s riding an enormous spider.”

“The fuck,” Michael said - Ryan stopped walking and heaved a heavy sigh.

“I see,” was all he said, and continued on.

 

* * *

 

Two dozen golems were blocking the gate into the inner city, standing in neat formation with fists raised. Ryan’s captain of the guard stood at their front, sword drawn and glaring. The golems stepped aside at the kings’ approach, and Michael’s stomach dropped as he caught sight of what they’d been blocking.

Two lines of zombies stood, holding vicious looking stone clubs. In the light of day their gnarled flesh and twisted faces looked more horrible than ever. A dozen draugr flanked them, bows drawn. And in the centre of this rabble was a black spider as large as a horse, its awful long legs lifting it high off the ground, rows of glinting red eyes darting to catch any movement. They didn’t get many insects in the Alps, thanks to the cold, and the mere sight of the thing sent an uncontrollable shiver down Michael’s spine. Fuck that and wherever it came from.

And atop this hideous creature sat Gavin.

Michael had thought about him often these last eight months. Sometimes with anger - in his loneliest moments, when it struck him how fond he’d been of the other man and how he had been betrayed - or with sadness, when news of Geoff came up and he remembered all that’d happened between them. Curiosity, most of the time - wondering what he was doing over in the Wild.

Seeing him again now made him stop, awestruck, because it’d been so long and he’d known him such a short time that he’d forgotten, a little, the other man’s face-

But Gavin, now, looked… different.

He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. There were physical changes, of course. His hair was longer, and darker from living in the shadows of the woods instead of the sun-drenched expanses of the Plains. He’d grown a beard, and it made him look not only older, but a funny sort of rugged. Less the playful boy he’d been before and more like some wild rogue or ranger. The three scratches down his cheek where he’d bled last time Michael saw him had healed into scars, slashes of claw-marks that only lent him an even more dangerous air.

More than that, though - something else had changed about him. It felt odd to think he had an _aura_ , but it was the only word Michael could think to use. His eyes seemed to glow almost unnaturally green, and perhaps it was his beard making his face seem angular, almost elfin, but he reminded Michael more than ever of some inhuman woodsprite, something _enchanting_ about him - magical, maybe - that would draw you in and lead you astray. Gavin had always been thin, light on his feet, but there was a wiriness to him now, a coiled sense of motion - any softness or baby fat worn away. He looked like a part of the Wild come to life.

The one thing that remained familiar was his creeper scarf, still wound around his neck - but he wore whole garments of the fabric now, stitched together with makeshift leather armour.

And his grin, when he saw them arrive - that was familiar, too. Made Michael’s heart ache, suddenly - especially when he heard Jack’s breath hitch beside him, saw Geoff’s cold mask flicker, just for a second.

“Well, fellas,” Gavin called out - a new confidence in his voice, playful as always but _commanding_ , too, now - “You invite me to your meeting then refuse to let me in? I’m getting some pretty mixed signals, here.”

Ryan stepped up beside his captain.

“Have they damaged or attacked anything?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, your majesty.”

Ryan clasped his hands behind his back and met Gavin’s eyes. He was forced to tilt his head back to look at him, but still seemed regal as ever. Michael, meanwhile, was ready to drop a shit the second that creature twitched one of its hairy legs, seriously, _what the fuck_.

“I appreciate the aesthetic you’re trying to convey,” Ryan replied finally. “But the giant spider is a bit much.”

“Where the fuck did you even get that thing?” Michael blurted out, and Gavin turned his gaze to him. His eyes softened, his smile turning more genuine, and suddenly Michael wasn’t quite as scared. It was still Gavin, under it all - or he thought so, anyway. _Don’t jump to conclusions. Sure underestimated him last time, didn’t you?_

“They live in caves in the Wild. My gift controls them, too. They never venture out unless you go looking for them, so I guess that’s why no one’s ever really seen them before. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” He stroked the spider’s side and Michael saw Geoff shudder. “We have no horses, but these are faster. More agile.”

“It’s not coming into the city,” Ryan informed him, firmly. “It will frighten people.”

Gavin stared at him a moment, then swung nimbly to the ground. He looked smaller now that he was on level with the rest of them, especially when he walked to stand before Ryan and his tall golems.

“And the other mobs?” he asked.

“They stay out, too,” Ryan replied. His voice was calm but Michael could see how his shoulders had tensed.

“Everyone else has brought soldiers.”

“Everyone else’s soldiers are human.”

“They are completely under my control,” Gavin replied, voice tight, now. “They won’t hurt anyone. Just protect me.”

“No. There will be no creatures of the Wild in my walls.”

“Then count me a creature of the Wild too, because I’m not coming in without them. Enjoy your meeting, lads. Hope you didn’t need my help with anything.”

He turned on his heel - still hadn’t looked at anyone save Ryan and Michael. Jack half-started forward, but Ryan called out first.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Gavin paused. He turned back around slowly.

“You, frankly,” he replied, and now his gaze swept over the rest of them, quickly. “All of you, and anyone who seeks to kill me and make my gift free for the taking again. That won’t work, by the way. The crown’s safely guarded back in the Wild.”

“Don’t be stupid.” It was Ray who spoke up, the rest of them glancing at him in surprise. “We didn’t invite you here to kill you. A fucking dragon appeared, we all have bigger enemies to worry about.”

Gavin regarded him silently for a moment, and Ray stared firmly back at him. Michael could only watch the two of them. Once he might’ve known what Ray was thinking. Now, they hadn’t had a meaningful conversation in so long that he didn’t know _what_ Ray thought of Gavin - how his view of the other man might’ve changed over the last few months.

“If everyone else gets guards,” Gavin insisted finally, “I do too.”

“You should’ve brought Dan then,” Ryan said, but sighed. “The zombies only.”

Gavin considered this, and nodded. He turned and looked at the creatures, and a second later the draugr turned and filed out of the city. The spider followed, its enormous body swaying gently as it walked. It was horrible. Michael felt a bit sick watching it.

When he turned back to them, Ryan finally nodded, and his captain lowered her sword. Gavin looked wary, now, but Jack stepped forward and he went even stiffer.

“Gavin,” Jack said, and Gavin’s eyes went huge. He didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Jack,” he replied softly. He kept looking at the other man’s face and then away again. “I… how have you been?”

“Busy and tired, but otherwise I’m well.” Jack inched forward, almost nervously. “How about you? You look…”

He trailed off, seeming unsure what to say, his eyes scanning over Gavin, who shifted self-consciously. Gods only knew what Jack was thinking, but the silence wore on and grew so awkward that Michael couldn’t stand it.

“Good,” he blurted out abruptly, and everyone stared at him, including Gavin - at which point he had to commit.

“You look really good,” he repeated. “Um. With a beard. It suits you.”

Gavin laughed, and the tension was broken a little as he turned back to Jack, whose lips were twitching too. Gavin stepped forward, and as his face softened he seemed bit less feral and more human.

“I missed you,” he said, and it was startlingly honest. He began to reach for Jack, who _smiled_ \- the kind of smile that had too much behind it, that made Michael ache to look at-

But before they could touch, Geoff stepped forward and tugged Jack back, a funny look on his face. Gavin recoiled, looking hurt.

“Geoff,” Jack snapped, turning to him.

“We have work to do,” Geoff said stiffly. “Come on.”

“ _Geoff_ ,” Jack chided, shaking him off with uncharacteristic roughness. He turned towards Gavin - but the other man had already withdrawn and stepped back, and Michael could practically see him closing off.

“You’re the one who said he wasn’t our friend anymore,” Geoff said - Jack blanched, Michael winced, even Ray raised his eyebrows - “So we don’t have time for this. We need to get going.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Jack hissed. Michael had never heard him so genuinely furious. “Why would you-”

“He is right,” Ryan cut in, with deliberate coldness. Jack glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. “Let’s not waste time.”

“Of course not,” Gavin added, just as stonily, but Michael could see the hurt in his eyes.

Jack looked pained, but Gavin turned away and began silently commanding his zombies into a line. Ryan began to walk back towards the fortress, the golems moving into formation around them - after a moment Geoff followed, then Jack, reluctantly.

Ray started walking too, and normally Michael would’ve moved next to him - but he waited now, letting some distance get between them, and when he turned back to Gavin the other man was watching him with sharp eyes. His gaze flicked to Ray, then back to Michael, who swallowed, knowing he’d missed nothing.

“Hey,” he said anyway. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Really,” Gavin said, voice flat with disbelief.

“I mean it,” Michael said, and he _did_ , even if he hadn’t realised it until now. “We need everyone together on this, and it seems like you’ve already gotten used to your gift. That’s useful.”

Gavin stared at him, seeming to gauge whether he was serious - when Michael stared steadily back at him, he finally gave a small smile.

“Have you been okay these last eight months?” he asked instead, and Michael bit his lip.

_No._ All he could think was how things had dragged on with Ray - how he’d spent half his time in the desert feeling lonely as all hell - how all his plans for the future had fallen apart and left him in a terrible limbo, unsure how everything would turn out. He wanted to tell someone, suddenly - just rant about it, have someone listen, offer some sort of advice about how the hell he could fix this.

But he couldn’t find the words. Wasn’t sure Gavin even cared.

“My kingdom’s fine,” he replied, and Gavin tilted his head.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said softly.

Michael glanced away, avoiding his gaze. There was genuine concern in Gavin’s voice. But still - they hadn’t seen each other for so long, and after how everything had ended… having a sudden heart to heart seemed out of place. Besides - they were busy, and had already fallen some distance behind.

“Come on,” was all he said instead, nodding his head after the others. He did reach out, touching Gavin’s arm briefly on impulse - Gavin looked down, surprised, then gave a small smile before following Michael up the road towards the fortress, the zombies trailing after them.

 

* * *

 

“This is the northern part of the Wild,” Gavin said, pointing at the map. “I haven’t been there much, but it’s where I saw the dragon come from. It emerged suddenly from the forest - if it had been living in there before, I never saw it until the other day, and given how bloody loud it is, that seems strange. My mobs have explored the area a little, but all I know is that there’s mostly ruined buildings - temples of some sort, I think? - and nothing else but thick forest. Wild animals, too - not the sort I can control, although I’ve found the fauna of the Wild are… oddly drawn to the king. They can sense my power and respect it, even if I can’t command them. But for anyone else, they are dangerous.”

He drew back, looking around at all of them. Their gazes were fixed on the map - the section that he was indicating was quite far north, deep in the heart of the Wild. Ryan frowned. In his tentative explorations of the other kingdom, he’d never gone nearly that far.

“It just appeared from there,” Geoff said finally.

“Yes,” Gavin repeated. “Out of nowhere.”

“This is where the previous beast appeared,” Ryan spoke up, pointing to the cave where the minotaur had been. It was some distance away from where Gavin had his finger.

Gavin hummed thoughtfully.

“When I saw the beast,” he said, “It was living down in that ravine, but it didn’t necessarily come from there. There was an opening, remember - the one I went through when I ran away from you all, that led out into the clearing where I put the crown on?”

It would be rather hard, Ryan thought wryly, for them to forget anything about that night.

“That led north,” Gavin continued. “So the beast could’ve come from that direction, seeking the crown - then stayed in there once it had it.”

“So it definitely came from the Wild,” Ray murmured, and Gavin glanced over at him and gave a tight smile.

“Apparently,” he said, and sighed. “Lovely! Dragons and demons right on my doorstep. I suppose that’s where I need to go and explore next.”

“We will all explore there,” Ryan cut in, sternly. Gavin’s eyes flicked to him. There was something unsettling about just how green they were, shining vividly even in the crimson light and harsh shadows of the hall, but Ryan met his gaze steadily. “We all need to find out where this came from, and I’m not leaving it up to you.”

“Why not?” Gavin challenged, straightening up. “You don’t think I’m capable of investigating?”

“Frankly, no,” Ryan said. “You don’t have the scientific knowledge that I do. If anyone can understand these beasts, can figure out what they are and how to stop them, it’s me.”

Gavin pulled a horrible face, then flung a mocking arm towards him.

“Your _humble_ Stone king, everyone,” he said.

They glared at each other, but Ryan’s gut was twisting.

Gods, it was hard to look at Gavin now.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to himself - but he’d been scared to see the other man again. The last eight months had been lonely - deliberately so. He’d retreated, closed off, thrown himself into his work developing the golems. It’d paid off - but it had been exhausting, worn him down, and there had been other matters in his kingdom. Traitors, people seeking to rise up and overthrow him - problems that he’d had to deal with, and deal with alone, afraid to trust anyone else for help save Kerry and Mica.

And the wounds of what Gavin had done to him were still very raw. He still hated to think about it, what a fool he’d been. And seeing the other man now, standing before him as a king, an _equal_ \- it only rubbed in the humiliation and how terribly he’d been played.

Anger was the easiest solution. To hate him, for what he’d done. To look at him now and focus on what Ryan had held him in his mind as the last eight months. _Liar. Traitor. Fool._

_Thief._

He wondered what Gavin thought of him. He was inscrutable, and Ryan wasn’t stupid enough to make the same mistake twice and assume he could tell what the other man was thinking.

“I’m going too,” Geoff spoke up abruptly, and Gavin’s eyes snapped away from Ryan, turning to him instead.

“Why?” he asked, carefully.

“Because I don’t trust _either_ of you,” Geoff huffed, crossing his arms. Ryan just rolled his eyes, but Gavin scowled.

“What the hell do you think I’m going to do?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Geoff said. “Something sneaky and horrible just like last time!”

“Why would I do anything against the Plains?” Gavin cried. “I don’t _care_ about them, Geoff. They mean _nothing_ to me. And besides,” he added, “I banished you from the Wild, remember? So you can’t come!”

There was something petulant in his voice, and Geoff sneered at him.

“Real mature, Gavin. This is why you should never have been king,” he chided. “You have no sense of leadership, or propriety-”

“I have a sense of what belongs to me,” Gavin cut in. “And the Wild does. And you’re not invited.”

“You are a fucking child,” Geoff snapped, worked up now. He slammed his hands against the map and leaned forward, glaring at Gavin - everyone else watching in tense silence. “You don’t deserve that crown. You have no idea what the fuck you’re doing with it. What have you even been doing this whole time? Running around the forest shitting behind bushes and eating leaves?”

“Building, actually,” Gavin sneered back.  
  
“What, _treehouses_?”

“Ha ha ha!” Gavin cried, throwing his head back, then scowled abruptly. “ _No_. All you self-righteous fucks can eat your damn words because I’ve rebuilt _so much_ there, you wouldn’t even _recognise_ it. I know what the hell I’m doing. I have people there, _citizens_ , and we have farms and buildings and plumbing. So go fuck yourself, Geoff, because I doubt you could’ve done half of what I have these last eight months.”

Geoff opened his mouth, but Gavin barrelled on - and there was a desperate anger in his voice that brought Ryan back to those moments before he’d put on the crown. Some dire need to prove himself, to have them all _see_ what he was capable of.

“I took nothing,” he hissed, “ _Ruins_ , and I made a home out of it. I made a _city_. And it’s beautiful.” There was pride in his voice now. “You’ll see. And I have friends there, that’s right - we’ve made something of it. And there are minerals, too - you saw that cavern, how rich it was in just that one ravine. So many untapped resources that we’ve started to mine. Soon we’ll have enough to begin trading.”

Jack was staring at him, rapt - pride in his eyes, Ryan could see. But Geoff’s face was stony, and when he spoke his voice was tight.

“Who the fuck do you think is gonna trade with you, fool?” he asked - venomous. A flash of hurt crossed Gavin’s face - unwilling, so fast he couldn’t stop it.

Jack scowled, too.

“Geoff,” he chided, but Gavin was already speaking again.

“Anyone who has sense,” he shot back - and it was Michael who he turned to. The other man straightened up, a bit startled to suddenly be singled out. But after a moment, he looked thoughtful, and Ryan’s jaw clenched.

Right now, the Stoneworld was the primary source of ore - of iron and coal and other minerals. The Plains had gold and silver, but not as much as them.

If the Wild started trading too, suddenly there’d be competition - it could shift the economy significantly. And all in the hands of _Gavin_ , who’d never studied these things in his life - who was unprepared to be making those sorts of decisions. Gods, it was unfortunate he’d taken the crown. He had more power than he knew what to do with - and probably didn’t even realise, yet, how much sway he might have over the rest of them if he put his mind to it and started engaging with the other kingdoms instead of just living in his own forest world.

“Gavin,” Michael began slowly, and sighed after a moment. “In situations like this we need to set aside animosity. You banished Geoff in anger, but we need to work together now - think about this rationally.”

"That’s remarkably diplomatic of you,” Ray muttered, and Michael shot him a glare. The tension between the two of them seemed to skyrocket in a second, and Gavin raised his eyebrows, Geoff letting out a tired sigh.

“Gods, what is going _on_ ,” Jack murmured - Ryan overheard him and could only silently agree. There was so much drama in the room he didn’t even know which problem to focus on first.

Gavin considered Michael’s words, and finally turned to Geoff.

“I’ll un-banish you from the Wild if you un-banish me from the Plains,” he said.

“Heavens give me patience,” Ryan muttered, turning away and rubbing his temples. “I am dealing with a bunch of five year olds.”

Geoff ignored him.

“That seems reasonable,” he said stiffly.

“And Dan too,” Gavin added, but apparently Geoff wasn’t feeling quite that generous. He shook his head.

“No. One for one - you _or_ Dan. Not both.”

Gavin’s jaw clenched.

“Dan then,” he said finally.

“Deal,” Geoff replied.

They stared at each other, both waiting for the other look away first. Finally, Jack sighed.

“Shake on it,” he said, and Geoff stuck out a hand, Gavin did too. For a moment, across the table, it looked like they were arm-wrestling, engaged in some silent battle.

Ryan wasn’t quite sure what was going on between the two of them. Clearly Geoff still resented the fool - but Jack seemed almost confused by his hostility, which was curious. Surely the two of them must know how each other felt at this point - especially if they were together now, which Ryan had picked up on almost immediately.

Unless, of course, they were still in their old habits of not discussing anything meaningful. Some people never learned.

Well, Ryan had learned. He wasn’t about to let anyone fool him again - would trust _none_ of them, even if they were forced to be allies by their current circumstances.

When the two men finally let go of one another, Gavin turned to Michael and Ray.

“And you,” he said, looking between the two of them. “Are you coming too?”

“Yes,” Michael replied instantly. “We need to understand these beasts to know how to fight them. The Alpine king is not just a political ruler but the head of his warriors. It’s my duty as that leader to be the one to find out about these creatures - and to battle them, if it comes to that.”

Ray was silent, but inclined his head, and Gavin nodded.

“In that case, it seems you will all be coming to stay in my city,” he said, and gave a funny sort of smile. “You needn’t fear the mobs, or the Wild, now. Everything is under my control and it’s quite safe in these southern areas. We’ll travel there together, with them for protection, and find out where these are coming from.”

“I can’t believe you never explored half of your own kingdom,” Ryan couldn’t help saying snidely.

“I was a bit busy, you know, building a bloody civilisation, Ryan!” Gavin shot back. It was strange hearing him address him by name so openly. He certainly seemed comfortable enough with his new status by now. “Not all of us get to cushily inherit all our parents’ wealth and cities. Some of us actually have to make things for ourselves.”

“I have,” Ryan replied coldly. “My golems. Who will, incidentally, be coming along too. We may need the extra defence.”

He expected Gavin to argue, but the other man just shrugged.

“Whatever makes you feel better. I suppose this will be the first time they last more than five seconds in there without getting decimated by my people. Did you enjoy our messages?”

“They lacked class,” Ryan sneered. “Once again your lack of a sophisticated upbringing was put on stellar display.”

“Yeah, well for all your _class_ and _education_ , none of you have the Wild crown, do you? So pooh pooh to you, or whatever you upper class snobs like to say,” Gavin informed them all.

Beside him, Michael snorted, and when Ryan looked over he found him trying to stifle his laughter. The rest of them just looked singularly unimpressed, and after a moment Gavin shrugged.

“You’d better go and pack then, _Ryan_. In fact, all of you should go get your affairs in order. The Wild isn’t far, but the journey is treacherous. I guess this time,” he added thoughtfully, “We’ll all be staying at my castle instead. I never dreamed I’d have a place all built of my own. Hell, I never thought I’d own property at all. But here we are - eight months’ work and now we’re entertaining royal guests!”

They all just stared at him. There was something transfixing about him - his sweeping hand gestures, the way he held himself, the funny other-ness that still hung about him. Like this was all some performance, and he was playing some Fairy King. Putting on a show for them. There was little trace in there of the uncertain, vulnerable boy that Ryan had so foolishly fallen for last time.

Good.

It made it easier to hate him.

Gavin clapped his hands together sharply.

“Go on then, we don’t have all day! Go prepare your people so we can leave.”

“You’re the one who was late,” Geoff grumbled, but stalked out of the room. Jack hesitated - but Gavin had turned back to the map and after a moment he left the room too, following after him. Ryan couldn’t think what conversation those two were about to have.

“I need to talk to you,” Michael said to Ray suddenly. His laughter had faded and he looked as uncomfortable as he’d been when they arrived.

Ray’s face was blank.

“I won’t be a minute,” he replied - a clear dismissal, and Michael walked out, leaving the three of them standing in silence. Gavin was still bent over the map, studying it intently, but Ryan was pretty sure he was just busying himself to avoid conversation.

But Ray just stood there, staring between them, and Ryan couldn’t think why.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked finally - Gavin looked up, and Ray’s gaze flicked between the two of them almost pointedly. A sudden answer struck Ryan - and anger flooded him a second later.

“What?” he sneered in Ray’s face. “You don’t want to leave me alone with him? You think I’ll hurt him, kill him? Well don’t worry. We _need_ him, so as long as he’s useful I’ll tolerate his presence.”

Gavin looked startled - Ray did too, and he opened his mouth, but Ryan was too irritated to care. He stalked for the door, fuming - after all Gavin had done, why the fuck should any of the rest of them care, or seek to protect him - from _Ryan_ , especially, who _deserved_ to take vengeance if he wanted - yet another display of the others’ sanctimonious double standards, in his opinion.

“Besides,” he added, pausing in the doorway. “He’s proven himself more than able to take care of himself. He doesn’t need anyone’s protection. I wouldn’t try, anyway - he might just stab you in the back like he did everyone else.”

He stormed out without waiting for an answer, but didn’t go to his people - instead took a sharp turn into one of his garden courtyards where he paused for a moment, collecting himself.

His hands were shaking, he realised with distaste, and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

His sudden outburst had been overwhelming. Things had just built up too much - being in there, with all of _them_ , and the memories of last time, and Gavin, _Gavin_.

He had grown in Ryan’s mind to villainous proportions. Some lurking witch-being in the forest, plotting away, careless of anyone but himself. He’d sent the golems to spy on him and received nothing back but mocking messages.

And seeing Gavin now - it was almost painful to realise he was just a man after all, still. Flesh, and blood, and feelings - his hesitance at seeing Jack and Geoff again, the almost blustering persona he was putting on, trying far too hard to prove himself in front of the rest of them - it hurt to be reminded how _human_ he was. How small and fragile just like the rest of them. He looked different, yes - the Wild had had some effect on him - but he was at once too familiar, bringing back all Ryan’s shame.

He didn’t want to be this affected. He thought he’d trained himself out of this long ago, had collected himself over the last eight months. Apparently not.

“Ryan!”

The voice made him jump - he spun around, annoyed. Didn’t want to see anyone at the moment.

It was Ray, slipping into the courtyard, wringing his hands together uncertainly.

“What?” Ryan snapped.

“That’s not…” Ray moved towards him but stopped when Ryan scowled. “You mistook me. I wasn’t there to keep an eye on you two, I was actually waiting for him to leave so I could talk to you alone. Besides, you’re right, Gavin doesn’t need protecting - why should I care, anyway?”

“Why should any of us care,” Ryan replied curtly. “About _anything_. Everything between us is political. Nothing more.”

“You’re right,” Ray repeated, and hesitated. When he spoke again his voice was quick and gruff, uncertain and forcing the words out as fast as he could. “Even now, Michael and I… it’s not… back then, you were right when you warned me about how messy all this would get. Between us. It wasn’t a good idea. It’s all gone to fucking pieces now.”

Ryan stared at him coldly. He couldn’t care less what dramas the others had. They’d brought them all on themselves.

“Do you seek my sympathy?” he snapped. “You won’t find any. You got yourself into this mess. And I got myself into _this_.”

He broke off abruptly - couldn’t stand to think of it. How empty everything had felt even as his city expanded, as the golems developed and everything seemed to be booming. How he couldn’t trust anyone, now, and had the fool on his doorstep as a constant reminder of how _stupid_ he’d been, and it was all his fault for letting his guard down and being stupid enough to think someone might care about him. That _Gavin_ might care about him.

He wasn’t sure if Ray even realised all that - if he’d figured out the whole story by now. But the other man just looked at him, and there was no pity in his eyes. Somehow that made Ryan relax, just a little.

“What did you want to speak to me about?” he asked gruffly, and Ray looked away.

“I felt what happened to you.” His hand went unconsciously to his side, where Ryan had been stabbed. “I felt… Michael and I both thought… we were worried. I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry we weren’t able to send anyone over.”

“Why would I care if you sent someone or not?” Ryan replied, uncomfortable and flustered. “It would’ve been a waste of time and resources. I don’t need flowers and get well presents. I survived. That’s all that matters.”

“Who was it?” Ray asked.

Ryan flapped a dismissive hand.

“A member of my council who sought to overthrow me. He was a fierce ally of my mother and he did not approve of the fact that I hadn’t tried to invade the Wild and steal the crown back from Free.”

“Why didn’t you?” Ray asked - curious, more than anything.

“He has a mob army,” Ryan replied flatly. “I have no desire for my men to lose their lives fighting him when he has the entire Wild at his command.”

Ray didn’t quite look like he believed him. Ryan stared back at him - didn’t bring up the fact that he had the golems now, that they could do the fighting. It was true enough. He didn’t want blood spilled - _anyone’s_ blood. After a moment Ray looked away and sighed, hands fidgeting at his sides.

“That’s what we’re worried about,” he said. “Michael and I. Someone trying to take over from inside - it’s happened with both you and Geoff now. So we need to look strong, together. And it’s… it’s not easy. None of this is. And this dragon is the last thing any of us need.”

“I made an example of him,” Ryan replied. “No one’s tried since.”

Ray gave him a questioning look, and Ryan responded with a tight smile.

“When I found out who did it, I took him in front of my entire court and executed him. Made a real show of it. My golems ripped his throat out in front of everyone. It took weeks to get the blood out of the stone.”

In all honesty, he didn’t like to dwell on the thought of it. But his voice stayed calm and flat, and he knew anyone else would be unsettled. Part of him wanted that - for Ray to be scared off. To stay away. But he just kept staring at Ryan.

“Badass,” he declared, finally.

“What?”

“He deserved it. He tried to kill you. And I bet anyone else conspiring against you thought twice after that.” Ray shrugged, apparently completely unbothered - now Ryan was the one staring, before he caught himself and turned away.

“It’s strange seeing you all again,” Ray blurted out, jumping abruptly to a different topic. “But it’s also kind of… I don’t know. I don’t like being alone with Michael so much. So it’s… nice. Seeing other people.”

Ryan looked over at him. Ray was staring at the ground now. Small dark weeds were sprouting in the cracks between the paving stones at his feet. Something stirred in his chest - he swallowed it down.

“We’re not here to be friends,” he said, voice tight.

“It must be hard to see Gavin again,” Ray replied - Ryan froze, but he didn’t seem to notice. “He seems different. We’re _all_ different.”

It was true. Everyone was more subdued - Geoff even testier than he’d been last time, Jack quieter and at a loss what to do with him. Ryan didn’t say anything, and after a moment Ray heaved a sigh and looked up again.

“Anyway. Michael’s waiting for me, I’d better go.”

He turned and left as suddenly as he’d come, leaving Ryan staring after him. He didn’t know what to think - what Ray had been seeking from him.

Watching him go now - it occurred to him that he’d almost missed Ray, too. He shook those thoughts off - but couldn’t deny that it was… refreshing, having someone else around. Especially with Geoff and Gavin here - and Michael, who he knew disliked him - around all those other kings, at least one of them was tolerable.

He took another deep breath, and composed himself, and went off to prepare for the trip.

 

* * *

 

Ray was taking a long time.

Michael was sitting in one of Ryan’s barren stone courtyards. It was empty, the castle ominously silent around him, no one in sight except one golem standing as sentry in the corner. After a moment, Michael rose and went over to it - it stared ahead, unblinking, but its eyes glowed and it was obviously alert. After a moment he reached out and tentatively touched its chest - its eyes flashed and he leaped backwards, stalking around it warily.

It was unnatural. He didn’t like it.

He knew the animals and beasts of the Alps. He knew the feral bandits. Flesh and blood, things that would bleed if you sunk a blade in them. Not these metal creatures. Unsettled, he turned away and went to sit down again.

Finally, Ray appeared, looking pensive. Michael got up and moved to meet him.

“What took you so long?” he asked. “What were you doing?”

“Talking to Ryan,” Ray replied - something deliberate about how curtly he said it.

“What about?”

“Nothing important.”

Michael stared at him. He remembered how funnily close the two of them had gotten, last time - not in the way Ryan and Gavin had apparently gotten close, but there was something in how he’d seen them interacting that had made him uneasy. And he felt uncomfortable suddenly, wondering what they could’ve had to discuss when they hadn’t seen each other for so long. Wondered, suddenly, if it had been about him.

“What did you need to tell me?” Ray asked, a touch impatiently, and Michael snapped back to attention.

“I think you should go back to the desert,” he said.

Ray scowled immediately, straightening up.  
  
“What?” he demanded. “Why?”

“We don’t need both of us here,” Michael explained. “I can represent both of our kingdoms. You should go back so at least one of us is at home in case something attacks.”

“If something attacks,” Ray pointed out, “It’ll come from the Wild, it’ll be _here_.”

“What if it can fly? The dragon could. Even if it appears from the Wild, we might not be able to stop it leaving.”

“Why don’t _you_ go back then,” Ray spat. “So that if something does go and attack one of our kingdoms, you can fight it?”

“The Wild will be dangerous,” Michael said, but he could feel himself floundering. “I should stay.”

Ray let out a great snort.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to fight, Michael. What, you think I can’t handle myself?”

“Not like I can,” Michael argued. “With my gift and… and everything it gives me. Our people shouldn’t be left floundering without a leader.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ray declared, folding his arms, and Michael’s temper grew thin. It felt like Ray was arguing with him just for the sake of arguing.

“Why?” he shot back, and it came out too close to yelling. “Give me one good reason why you need to come with us!”  
  
“ _My_ people are fine,” Ray replied, and he was shouting too, now. “My advisors are back there. They handled things during the games and they’ll handle things now! If you want someone to go back so badly, _you_ can go-”

“What use can you be here?” Michael insisted.

“ _Plenty of use_ ,” Ray shouted, “You fucking asshole! If we do find something in the Wild, I’m sure as hell gonna have a better chance of helping the others figure out what to do about it, because guess what, Michael, I’m _smarter_ than you. There are some things you can’t just punch to death!”

Michael stared at him, furious - Ray glared right back, and there was a venom between them that wasn’t usually there. Their fights had become routine, but Michael could tell now that Ray was properly angry with him. That hadn’t been his intention, but he wasn’t able to stop fighting back, to stop being defensive as soon as Ray didn’t so much as give his suggestion a second thought.

There was a heavy silence, and then Ray threw his hands up.

“Unless,” he continued, “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“I never said that,” Michael snapped, and Ray barked out a harsh, hurt laugh.

“You don’t have to say it,” he replied, and looked away. “I _know_. You hate me and, and you want me gone-”

“I _never said that_ ,” Michael cried. “Fucking gods, Ray, stop _projecting_!”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Ray declared. “If you don’t want to be around me, _you_ go home!”

Michael stared at him. Ray’s face was flushed with anger, his eyes bright with something too close to tears, and Michael faltered, not wanting to yell any more - after a moment Ray cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again.

“Now, I’ll go tell _our men_ to get ready to go to the Wild. If you don’t want to come with us, that’s your call.”

He turned on his heel and stormed off. Michael stared after him, fists clenching at his sides. He felt sick. He hadn’t intended this to end in a fight, but it seemed like everything they tried to talk about did nowadays.

He didn’t hate Ray. Not at all.

He missed him. Missed him so much that it nearly choked him up, now, and he reached up and scrubbed at his face, breathing heavily before turning and marching off in the opposite direction.

He had no idea where he was going, to be honest. Ryan’s fortress was all centred around the throne room, but the courtyards led out into garden areas that Michael quickly got lost in, too many identical grey walls, winding passages and similar looking stone courtyards all over the place. For a while it was nice just to wander, until his burning anger faded a little and he just felt exhausted instead - but after a while he realised he had no idea where the fuck he was. Ryan apparently needed to invest in better signage.

He turned and tried to retrace his steps, and eventually wandered in an enormous circle and ended up back in front of the hall - only to freeze when he found Gavin sitting on one of the stone benches. His zombies were hovering nearby, letting out the occasional groan, and in the stone space the noise echoed eerily around.

Gavin looked up at his entrance, and gave a small smile.

“Hey,” he said. He noticed Michael’s wary glance towards the mobs, and chuckled. “Don’t worry about them, they won’t hurt you.”

He lifted a hand and the zombies all took a few steps back and turned around. Somehow that helped, made it seem like they weren’t watching, and Michael stepped closer to him and after a moment sat on the bench next to him and sighed.

“You okay?” Gavin asked after a moment. “You look upset.”

Michael glanced up at him. He was too tired to bother hiding it at this point.

“Just shit with Ray,” he replied, and Gavin’s lips twisted.

“You guys seem…” he trailed off, but Michael couldn’t help scoffing out a humourless laugh. He knew how they seemed. They tried to hide it, back home, but after a few weeks of travelling together it was hard not to let it show that they were pissed off as fuck with each other.

“Everything’s fucked up,” he found himself admitting. He wasn’t sure why - maybe because it was easier to tell someone who he didn’t know all that well, who was removed from their court and their kingdom. “I should never have married him, it was stupid.”

“It must be hard for both of you,” Gavin said softly, and Michael looked over at him again - there was something understanding in his face, and Michael wondered how much he knew about what had gone on between the two of them. How much he’d worked out. How much was obvious now.

“It must be painful for him,” Gavin continued. “Being in love with someone who doesn’t…”

He trailed off, and Michael closed his eyes briefly.

_In love with me. Not anymore - or I don’t think so, anyway._ But Ray had looked hurt, today, and his words were telling, but Michael didn’t know how to _fix it_ , didn’t even know where to fucking _start_ to sort out this mess, and having to keep up this sham of a marriage all the time wasn’t helping.

“It’s not an easy situation,” Gavin added, and Michael looked at him again. He looked sympathetic, but not pitying. “And I know it must be just as hard for you, right? To know what to do with all that. And to have to look out for your kingdom on top of it all.”

Michael nodded, and Gavin sighed.

“And now,” he said, voice heavy, “We’ve all lost our friends.”

“Geoff and Jack,” Michael began, and Gavin gave a tight smile.

“Eight months,” he said. “A lot changes in that time. Seems like Geoff still hates me. Even more than he did when I left. Things have festered, I can tell.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. _He doesn’t hate you_. How could he know, after how angry Geoff had seemed back there? He certainly acted like he hated Gavin. And part of Michael couldn’t blame him, but there was something worn down and sad about seeing Gavin sitting here in this grey courtyard, alone and quiet now, after his larger-than-life entrance.

“I was scared to come here, you know?” Gavin blurted out after a moment, and it wasn’t some scripted speech he’d come up with, now, it was halting and vulnerable and _real_. “But also… I don’t know. I thought… seeing them again… I didn’t know what would happen. Especially with Jack. I guess I had some sort of stupid _hope_ that maybe it wouldn’t all be bad and angry. I missed them.”

This last a whispered sort of admission, and Michael felt a lump rise in his throat again. Swallowed it down angrily, told himself he was just tired and finding it hard to control himself. But still, he couldn’t help but admit it too:

“I miss Ray.”

Gavin looked up at him, eyes soft.

“You know, I missed you as well, Michael,” he said. “I know we didn’t know each other very long, and I… I really didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. But I still remember how you were kind to me. I still think about that.”

Michael looked at him, a bit surprised but not letting it show. And there were times he’d been angry with Gavin, thinking back on all that happened, but with distance and time between them it’d faded in his memory, and sitting here looking at him now, face to face - it was hard to hold onto it.

“You told me, back then, that it was barely a betrayal because we’d only known each other a few days,” he said. “You were right. You owed me nothing. What happened with you and me, it wasn’t personal.”

Gavin gave a small smile. He looked around the courtyard and gave a sudden laugh.

“This is where we first spoke to each other, isn’t it?”

Michael glanced around and realised he was right. Somehow he couldn’t help but laugh too, at that, and when he looked over at Gavin and saw him genuinely grinning, something warmed in his chest.

Michael had always been drawn to him. He couldn’t deny it; back then, that first time he saw him, with his creeper scarf and golden boots and something of the sun in his hair and eyes - and even now, after everything, his pull only seemed to have gotten stronger, that tingling sense of magic that accompanied everything to do with the Wild in him too, now. But not disturbing, not making Michael want to pull away the way it did when he’d been in the other kingdom last time. When it was in Gavin, it was attractive - seemed to tug at the bond they shared through the crown. Made him want to get closer.

And Gavin still seemed like sunshine now, somehow - when they were alone together and it was clear he wasn’t putting on an act. After all the tension with the other kings, and his fight with Ray - having one person _smiling_ with him was an indescribable relief.

He shifted closer to Gavin on the bench - the other man seemed surprised, but didn’t stiffen or pull away.

“Do you regret it?” Michael couldn’t help asking.

It was a question he’d asked himself too many times - if they could do things again, do things differently - just one decision by any of them, during the games, could have completely changed the way things were now. And from the look on Gavin’s face, he could tell it was something he’d thought about too.

“Sometimes,” Gavin began, and then paused, staring down at his boots. Barely any traces of gold were left, the paint worn away and the leather scuffed and patchily repaired in places. He shook himself, then tried again. “Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t taken the crown, where we’d all be now… how different things might be. At the time I was so angry, so passionate, I couldn’t imagine doing anything differently. But now it’s been months. Once things calm down we… reflect.”

Michael nodded slowly, and Gavin looked up and stared at him for a lingering moment.

“Before I became king… you’ve always been royalty, Michael. I don’t think you or any of the others can understand what it’s like to be an orphan, a circus boy, a street rat. A fool. My name is Free but I _wasn’t_ \- not when people could order me to do things, and I _had_ to do them - not when the people I _loved_ were of a higher status than me.”

He spoke calmly, but there was something deeper in it - something too personal, like he’d been waiting to explain himself properly to somebody. Not like last time, when they’d all been angry and he’d been hysterically raving about his motivations - Michael nodded silently, and Gavin flexed his fingers, staring down at his hands.

“Living in the Wild, having the gift… I’m in control for once. No one can tell me what to do, or where to go. No one can lay a hand on me if I don’t want them to.”

Michael bit his lip - he wanted to reach out, or say something, but couldn’t think what. But when Gavin looked up and smiled again, it wasn’t forced.

“I am where I am now,” he said. “I don’t regret it. I wish some things had happened differently, but… I don’t know. It feels like everything’s changing now, anyway.”

“It does,” Michael agreed quietly. “It’s felt that way for a while but this… this has pushed things along. Last time we were all together, everything that happened… nothing was the same. And now we’re all here again.”

“Bloody scary,” Gavin said, and Michael laughed.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

They sat together for a moment, pensive - but somehow, knowing Gavin was just as nervous about everything that was going on made Michael feel a bit less out of his depth. Especially when, a moment later, Gavin tentatively reached out and touched his shoulder. He pulled his hand back almost immediately, but looked relieved when Michael just smiled at him.

“I’ll show you, Michael, once we get to the Wild,” he said. “Everything I’ve made these last eight months. None of them thought I could do anything, but I really did try to do this properly.”

“I’m sure you did, Gavin,” Michael replied, and Gavin smiled again.

“For now, you should go and get ready to leave. I need to go and round up the others. If it gets too dark it’ll take even longer to travel back.”

Michael nodded. He felt a lot better just sitting down and talking things out with someone. Having someone around who was on the same page as him was a relief - after the last few months in the desert with no one but Ray and his elderly advisors, it’d been _lonely_. And he thought, from the look on Gavin’s face, that he felt the same way.

Gavin stood up first and Michael let the other man pull him to his feet. His hands were oddly warm and Michael didn’t let go of him, tugging him closer for a moment and staring into his eyes. Gavin stared back at him, startled - up closer it was even more apparent that something was off about him. Michael couldn’t tell if it was his eyes, practically glowing, or something about his face, or how when he got close to him a funny tingling set over his skin, but he felt like one of the knights in old stories who fell into the thrall of fairies.

“You’re different,” he blurted out - Gavin raised his eyebrows, and Michael stepped back with a frown, looking him up and down - he just couldn’t place _what_ was off. “You don’t seem human.”

Gavin looked a bit upset at that.

“I _am_ human, Michael,” he cried, and Michael tilted his head.

“No, there’s… there’s something about you. I can’t figure it out.”

Gavin fidgeted, hands tugging at the ends of his scarf.

“Good something or bad something?” he asked, nervously - Michael chewed at his lip.

“I don’t know,” he admitted - “Good, I think?”

It was true. Whatever the weird vibe he was getting was, it wasn’t off-putting. And he hadn’t been lying before; Gavin _did_ look good with a beard. Every time he looked at him he was a bit startled to notice it.

Gavin gave a small smile, seeming relieved.

“There are some… things,” he said. “That I’m figuring out, that I’m… coming to terms with, I suppose. These last eight months I have found parts of myself I never even knew I had lost. The Wild is in me in ways none of you can understand. It’s… it’s hard to explain. I have answers about my past, but they’re not complete. I’m still trying to work it all out myself.”

Michael stared at him, not quite sure what he meant, but patient - and after a moment Gavin shook himself and smiled.

“I’ll tell you about it later, maybe,” he said, and then added a bit shyly, “If you want.”

“Of course,” Michael said. “There are things I want to talk about too.”

Ray, and all the rest of - knowing he could actually _tell_ someone about it was a relief. Gavin’s smile widened.

“Later then!” he said. “Soon.”

Michael nodded. He felt far more reassured as he went off to find Ray and his men - for all of them to go to the Wild. Behind him, Gavin turned and headed back into the hall, presumably off to find the others.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Ryan to pack his belongings. He’d anticipated having to go into the Wild and had already made preparations. Before long he was ready to go, and sent a servant down to the stables with his bags before taking the time to carefully lock away his crown.

He was heading through the castle to meet the others when he heard voices, and paused.

Sound carried in the stone fortress, especially to those who weren’t used to living there and didn’t know about the strange acoustics of the place - didn’t know to be careful. He paused in one of the upper storeys and moved to look down below. Sure enough, Jack and Geoff were in a little chamber down by one of the side doors - they appeared to be arguing, and Ryan slipped forward to eavesdrop. Up here he could peer around the corner and over the edge of the stairs without being seen.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” Jack was demanding. Ryan had never heard him sound this angry. Of the two of them, Geoff was the one with the temper.

“I’m not playing at anything,” Geoff replied, his voice rising up shrill and defensive, and Jack scoffed.

“You weren’t acting like this before we left. You were… I thought you were gonna make an effort.”

“When did I ever promise to do that?” he scoffed, and Ryan saw Jack throw his hands up.

“When we realised we were all gonna have to come here - you didn’t seem like you were still angry with him!”

_Gavin_ , Ryan realised, stomach dropping just at the thought of the other man.

“Maybe,” Geoff replied, voice tight. “But that was before I saw him again and it brought it all back! What he _did_ \- to _us_ \- and _you_ said, Jack - you said he’d be different, after all this time. And he is, I know you can see it too. Something changed. And he stole that crown and he _left us_ and I don’t know why the fuck you’re defending him-”

“Because he’s still Gavin,” Jack burst out. “I said all that because I wasn’t sure, okay? I wasn’t _sure_ what we’d find when we saw him again and I didn’t want to get our hopes up. I was scared too, alright? But here we are and I can _see_ \- yes, he seems a bit different, but under it all it’s still _him_. I can tell.”

“We’ve barely spoken to him,” Geoff said, but Jack shook his head insistently.

“I saw enough. I miss him, Geoff. It’s hard to look at him and not want him to come home.”

“You think this isn’t fucking hard for me too?” Geoff cried. His voice cracked a little as he continued - rather hysterically, in Ryan’s opinion - “After what he _did_ to us, Jack! And did you see him out there? He has shown no fucking remorse. He swans in here with all his mobs, he picks a fight with me-”

“You started that fight,” Jack chided. “Why did you tell him that I said he wasn’t our friend anymore?”

“Because you did!”

“Well it wasn’t what I meant!” Jack replied. “I meant that he’s not… he’s a _king_ now, Geoff. He’s not just our fool. That changes things between all of us, no matter what happens.”

Geoff just stared at him and after a moment Jack stepped towards him, softening a little.

“You didn’t have to make him think that I dislike him,” he said, softly.

Geoff folded his arms, but when Jack touched his arm he leaned into it.

“You don’t dislike him, then?” he asked, a bit grudgingly.

“Of course not,” Jack replied, so easily that it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. “Why? Do you?”

Geoff looked away. There was a long silence and up above Ryan could only stare, rooted like a stone statue, looking at Jack’s hand on Geoff’s shoulder - the question that he suddenly couldn’t answer so easily.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come,” Geoff muttered finally, and Jack threw his hands up, annoyed again.

“Don’t you dare fucking start that,” he said, and sighed heavily. “Look… Geoff… I want to support you here. Of course you’re angry, you have every right to be. Of course it hurts. And I’ve been angry too - then, and now, just thinking about how he just _left_ us, but… don’t make this harder than it needs to be. For any of us.”

Geoff looked away, jaw clenched tightly - but Jack ran a hand down his arm again, and after a moment he sighed heavily and reached up to scrub at his face.

“He’s clearly still mad at me, too,” he said, and there was something too vulnerable in how he reached out and took hold of Jack’s arm. “I… I need you with me on this, Jack, I just… don’t let this get between us? I can’t lose you too, over this.”

It wasn’t an apology or even an answer, but it did effectively make Jack drop the whole topic, reaching out and clasping Geoff’s face in both hands with a tenderness that gave Ryan pause.

“Oh, Geoff, of course not. You won’t lose me. Ever.”

Geoff gave a small smile and leaned up to kiss him. Ryan looked away as he saw them press closer together - and a flicker of movement caught his eye. A little further along this upper corridor, Gavin had entered through a side door leading in from outside. He caught sight of Jack and Geoff and froze - inching towards the bannister to look down and watch them. At the sight of him, Ryan stiffened.

Below, Jack and Geoff broke apart, and Jack let out a small chuckle.

“And by the way, what the fuck was that proposal before, in the hall? You can’t just do that to me out of the blue, Geoff.”

“Ryan was being an asshole.”

“Yes, but suddenly declaring we’re gonna get married is not a solution!”

“Look,” Geoff said, defensively, “I figured it was assumed that we’d marry one day. Since we’re together now, and all.”

“We can’t just _assume_ things anymore,” Jack chastised him. “Remember how badly that went with Gavin? You need to say these things out loud, make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

Gavin had stiffened at the sound of his name. His hand slipped off the bannister and he turned away - but lingered, still waiting to hear more.

“Would you really have said no?” Geoff asked. “Humiliated me in front of Ryan?”

“It’s not about Ryan,” Jack said. “It’s about us. You can’t put me on the spot like that. You’d hate if I did it to you.”

“You’re right,” Geoff replied, and sighed heavily. There was something intensely tired in it, something worn down that made Ryan remember suddenly that he’d effectively been at war the last eight months. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jack replied, and there was a pause before Geoff spoke again.

“But honestly - would you have said yes? Just, you know, theoretically.”

Jack laughed, genuine and real and a sound that hadn’t been heard in this fortress in too long.

“You’re ridiculous and terrible,” he said, fondly. “How about you ask me properly, somewhere nice and romantic - then we’ll see.”

Geoff laughed too, and they left together, walking back outside with their arms linked. Silence fell in the fortress once again, and Ryan saw Gavin lean forward, bracing himself against the bannister and clutching it with both hands, his shoulders tense. He let out a rather pained sound.

Ryan frowned. Every time he saw Gavin and that damnable creeper pattern he was thrown back to the last time they’d met, and all that’d happened. He turned and saw a golem standing guard in the corridor behind him - there were many of them, stationed all around the castle - he motioned for it to come and its eyes lit up. It followed him, and Gavin seemed distracted enough not to notice their approach as they came up behind him.

“Little thieves shouldn’t wander around where they’re not welcome,” Ryan said darkly.

Gavin spun around, hand going to the knife at his belt. His eyes darted between Ryan and the golem before he straightened up - and then paused, suddenly, looking down at the chamber where Jack and Geoff had just been. Something unexpectedly vulnerable crossed his face.

“They’re together now,” he said, and Ryan raised his eyebrows at the look on his face.

“Oh, poor you,” he sneered. “You abandoned them and now they’ve found comfort in each other. Honestly, what did you _think_ would happen? I thought when you chose to fuck all the rest of us over you realised what the consequences would be. That they wouldn’t love _you_ , not after that.”

Gavin flinched a little, but straightened up defiantly.

“You’re an asshole,” he spat, and Ryan just laughed, a harsh, broken sort of thing. His heart was pounding, and it nearly scared him how much he wanted to _hurt_ Gavin, any way he could - how as much as he’d tried to keep himself distant, the _anger_ , now, was something he couldn’t suppress. He wanted to be cold but he was hot, burning hot, hands clenching into fists by his sides.

If Gavin noticed the danger, he didn’t seem to care.

“And you?” he asked now. “You haven’t found love yet?”

“I don’t need love,” Ryan scoffed. “I have an heir. I have left plans for my kingdom if something should happen to me. There is no _need_ for me to find anyone else. Getting attached - that only makes you weak. You made that _abundantly_ clear to everybody last time.”

“Sure,” Gavin spat, and pushed himself away from the railing. He tried to leave but Ryan stepped in and blocked his path - Gavin stared up at him, eyes burning. This close something about him nearly made Ryan shiver. It was like looking into the eyes of a tiger, or some other wild creature - unpredictable. He stood his ground, sneering down at Gavin, who stared back implacably.

“I’m not scared of you,” he said, simply.

“You should be,” Ryan replied, and Gavin’s eyes darted to the golem and back to him.

“My zombies are outside,” he warned.

“They won’t be around forever,” Ryan spat, and Gavin’s eyebrows rose.

“Are you threatening me, Ryan?” he asked, sounding rather unconcerned. “What is it you want? More power? Another crown? Why do you think I didn’t trust you last time?”

“Don’t talk to me about trust,” Ryan said. “I’ve been stabbed in the back more than once. In every sense of the phrase.”

That actually seemed to take Gavin aback, and his gaze darted to Ryan’s side - he seemed to remember what’d happened a few months ago, and Ryan practically saw him backtrack, his anger faltering away.

“I felt it too,” Gavin said, quietly. “What happened. I was going to send someone to see if you were okay - but before I could I felt you… stabilise, I guess. I knew you weren’t going to die. And I thought you wouldn’t appreciate it anyway - might take it as a threat, as me trying to scope out if you were weak enough to attack. Which I wouldn’t have, by the way. But I… I felt it happen. It was strange. I feel a lot of things, now that we’re all connected.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. And Gavin’s voice wasn’t pitying - was barely even sympathetic - but he still hated it, suddenly, that every other one of them had witnessed his weakness, how he’d stupidly let someone get one up on him.

“Just because we share the crown bond,” he spat, needing to lash out again, “Don’t think that that makes you one of us.”

Gavin stared at him, his face unreadable but his eyes hard. He didn’t reply, and after a moment he made to push past Ryan again. On impulse, Ryan reached out and grabbed his arm - Gavin stopped short and Ryan stared down at him.

He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know what he hoped to get out of this, except that he was still so _furious_ and while part of him wanted to just ignore Gavin, not let him affect him any more, he _couldn’t_ \- needed to express somehow exactly how much he _hated_ him - Gavin looked up at him.

“I think you should let go of me,” he said slowly.

Ryan opened his mouth - but now, now that Gavin was finally in front of him, all his words failed him and he couldn’t think what to say. He gripped Gavin’s arm tighter, digging his fingers in hard.

But Gavin was not some helpless fool now, afraid to touch a king. He brought his other hand up and made to snap one of Ryan’s fingers back - Ryan let go of him quickly and Gavin rubbed his arm before glaring up at him.

“You can’t do that any more,” he said, voice very tight. “None of you can push me around. Like it or not, I’m a king just like the rest of you-”

“You are no king,” Ryan spat. “You never will be. You are nothing to me but a thief and a liar, so don’t fool yourself into thinking that any of the others see you as anything more than that. _King_ ,” he scoffed, and laughed again. “You are not worthy of the title.”

“And what makes you worthy?” Gavin shot back immediately. “Your precious royal blood? Your _parents_?”

It was spat with a venom that made Ryan pause, he hadn’t thought Gavin so cruel as to bring that up.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Gavin continued. “You will be relying on my hospitality in the Wild. Don’t cross me, Ryan.”

And there was the biggest difference, the thing that had changed in the last eight months. Gavin looked powerful, now. Assured of his place in the world and confident in his own abilities, and far more of a threat than he had been even when he went to kill the beast. He’d had eight months to grow used to his gift - and while his previous recklessness had made him dangerous, now he had a kingdom to protect. And that only made him even more likely to lash out.

The door Gavin had entered by opened again, suddenly, and two zombies came in. Gavin must have summoned them, silently, when Ryan grabbed him. They moved forward and the golem stepped in - the creatures squared off against each other, but neither attacked yet. Gavin didn’t so much as glance at them, staring intently up at Ryan, who stared back - but then felt abruptly exhausted. He let out a scoff of disgust and turned away, telling himself it was because they had bigger things to worry about - not because dealing with Gavin made him feel too much, took more out of him than he’d anticipated.

“Jack and Geoff will marry,” he said instead, darkly, “And rule the Plains together. Quite a happy ending, isn’t it? But take us to the Wild, fool. Show us all you’ve built. Was it worth it? Are you _happy_ with what you chose? Have you found all you were looking for, there?”

He meant it as a taunt - didn’t care for an answer, anyway - but something strange passed across Gavin’s face, and when Ryan turned to leave, the other man suddenly called after him.

“I did find,” he began, and paused, swallowing. When he spoke again, it was tentative. “I… I did find out things. About my parents-”

“I don’t fucking care,” Ryan snapped. No matter if he’d been interested in Gavin’s scarf, in the _mystery_ of it all - that was _before_.

Gavin drew back. He almost seemed hurt, which Ryan couldn’t quite understand. After all, he’d brought this all on himself, and made it perfectly clear that he didn’t care one jot for Ryan. He turned away, and didn’t look back as he headed off outside, leaving Gavin standing alone behind him.

He got all the way downstairs before he had to pause to collect himself.

_How can I do this?_

He’d thought he’d put distance between them. That it would be easy to remain cold and aloof - that that, more than anything, would show all the rest of them that he didn’t _care_ , would never care _again_ \- but the second he was around Gavin alone he’d barely been able to control his anger.

And there was nothing he hated more than not being in control.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a great hustle and bustle outside the gates of the city, because while everyone had _said_ they were ready to leave, apparently they were not - Michael and Ray had had some miscommunication about who was sending messages back to their courts to say they’d be in the Wild, and Ryan felt the need to make a snide comment, and then Geoff started arguing with him, and then a horse threw a shoe-

Now Jack stood, waiting patiently for them to sort themselves out, glancing at the horizon now and then. The afternoon was wearing on.

Gavin was waiting, too.

Everyone kept a wide distance from him, but that was probably because of the giant spider more than anything else. It was just so huge. And _furry_.

But Gavin, standing next to it, looked oddly small and withdrawn - especially compared to the confidence with which he’d entered the city - and after a moment Jack swallowed his fear and walked up to him.

“Hey,” he called out.

Gavin glanced up. He looked startled, then oddly shy.

“Hi, Jack,” he said, and glanced over at the others. “They get their shit together yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And _I’m_ normally the disorganised one.” Gavin shook his head and sighed, and Jack laughed again, inching closer.

“Are they normally hostile?” he asked, and Gavin glanced at the spider and shook his head.

“Not unless a human attacks them. But I can control them like my other mobs. They’re fun to ride,” he added with a grin. “More fun than horses.”

“You’ve never liked horses.”

“They’re big and scary! Not all of us grew up around them.” He stroked the spider absently and Jack glanced between them.

“Does it have a name?” he asked.

Gavin grinned at him.

“Come on, Jack, of _course_ she has a name! I name _everything_ , you know that.”

“You name things that already _have_ names,” Jack chuckled.

“I give them _improved_ names. She’s called Egg.”

“Egg the spider?”

“Yes,” Gavin said solemnly, and Jack could only shake his head. He was laughing, but inside his stomach felt tight and the nostalgia was killing him slowly.

He missed Gavin. He missed him so much he could barely stand it. Remembering the fun they’d used to have, Gavin’s constant presence around the castle - it tore at him now, he wanted it back so _badly_ \- and he’d thought he’d come to terms with the fact that they’d never have that again, but apparently not. Not when Gavin was here in front of him and Jack wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

His laughter had faltered away, and Gavin was staring at him. Jack thought he must look sad. He forced a smile, and Gavin gestured at the spider.

“You can touch her, if you want,” he said, and the way he held out his arm seemed like an invitation for Jack to move closer to him.

That was reason enough for him to swallow down his discomfort. He nodded, and moved in, and tentatively stroked down the spider’s flank.

It was exactly as horrible as one might expect touching a fucking enormous spider to be, but Gavin shifted closer to him, and that distracted Jack. Their arms were nearly touching, and Gavin kept darting him nervous sidelong glances.

“You look tired,” Gavin said abruptly. “And you’ve lost some weight.”

“We’ve been at war with Baron Nutt. You didn’t hear?”

Gavin’s eyes were wide.

“No one was exactly sending me regular news. Ryan’s message didn’t explain all that much. So he actually attacked?”

“Led an uprising against us for eight fucking months. It got hairy at times.”

“But then?”

“The dragon ate him.”

Gavin let out a startled laugh, and Jack could only grin. In hindsight, it was pretty funny - and a great story to tell. The sort of thing Gavin would appreciate.

“It wasn’t much of a surprise,” Jack continued. “It’d been brewing a while. Losing the games was a breaking point.”

Gavin nodded, but his grin had faltered a little. Jack could imagine what he was thinking. _The games_. How his own theft of the crown had probably contributed, in some way, to the public’s loss of confidence in Geoff.

It was true, but he didn’t like the look that passed across Gavin’s face. He turned away from the spider and pressed Gavin’s arm. Felt him shiver.

“And you - you look different too. I guess you’re really all grown up now.”

“Beard buddies,” Gavin said, gesturing at his own face.

“Indeed,” Jack said, and chuckled briefly. “Really, though, was it… hard? On your own, here?”

“I had Dan,” Gavin replied, but shrugged. “We found others. At first it was hard. I had no idea where the hell to even begin with all this. Just ruins, and jungle, and _no one_ \- it was daunting. But I sat down. I made plans. And we started to build, and that was exciting - _progress_. Seeing things start to come together.”

His eyes were shining with a genuine pride that Jack had never seen in him before. And it was exhilarating to watch - to hear the passion in his voice as he spoke about it - _he_ was proud, too.

“That’s great,” he said, softly - too sincerely, probably - “I can’t wait to see it.”

Gavin looked away.

“I wish you wouldn’t all keep acting so surprised about it,” he muttered. “Ryan and Geoff, constantly bringing up my lack of status, of education, that I didn’t get the _royal training_ they all did - like, I get it. I am fucking acutely aware of the fact that until I was fifteen I could barely spell my own name. _No one_ knows that better than I do. But I’m not stupid. I learn very quickly. I read half the library back in the Plains, and not only that, I _applied_ what I’d learned - in killing the beast. In building my kingdom. But it still seems like none of you see it and, hell, what do you _think_ pushed me to go after the crown in the first place?”

His voice was soft, but the raw _anger_ was still clear in it, just as it had been that awful night. Jack ached for him - because he’d been angry at Gavin, in passing moments over the last few months, but seeing him here and now… there was obviously a lot of built up rage and resentment, had been for years now. He felt terrible for not seeing it sooner, before Gavin had reacted so explosively - for any part he’d played in it.

And for the fact that Gavin _hadn’t_ , apparently, realised they loved him. Hadn’t believed it.

“You’re not stupid,” he said softly. “You never were. I never wanted you to feel that way - during the games, or at any other moment. I can’t say I’m glad you have the crown - because I’m selfish and I wish you were still back home with us. I missed you. We both did.”

He heard Gavin’s breath catch a little beside him. When he looked up the other man’s face was carefully blank, but there was something pained and longing in his eyes.

“But that’s not to say that you don’t deserve it,” he finished. “Or that you haven’t done well with it…”

He trailed off and looked away, having to compose himself. But after a moment he swallowed, hard.

He wanted to put this all behind them. Part of him still hoped they could. And he wanted, more than anything, to say _sorry_ \- _sorry if I ever hurt you - sorry for not telling you sooner that I love you, for not making sure you knew-_

He turned towards Gavin and was about to apologise - only to find Gavin opening his mouth at the same time, a similar look on his own face-

“Jack!”

It was Geoff’s voice, and Jack spun around - the other man was standing a little way away, holding onto his horse’s bridle. He was staring at the two of them, and didn’t look happy - but there was something worried, close to scared under his upset, and that was the only reason Jack retreated.

“Looks like it’s time to go,” he said - Gavin just nodded, and Jack glanced at the spider.

“Need a boost up?” he asked.

He knew Gavin didn’t - the other man was more than agile enough to get up on his own - but he hesitated, then nodded, and Jack moved forward and lifted him easily up onto the creature. It nearly hurt to touch Gavin, to be so close to him, to remember how they used to embrace or how the other man would rest his head on his shoulder, or lie in his lap, how easily they’d fit together - a fleeting moment of nostalgia before Gavin pulled himself up over the creature’s back. He looked down at Jack and gave a small smile; Jack smiled back, before turning and going to his own horse.

Geoff was watching him carefully, but didn’t say anything. Ryan was moving up now anyway, and everyone was beginning to organise themselves.

“Are we off then?” Gavin called out. That mocking note was back in his voice, as sure of himself as he’d been earlier - seeing their nods, he grinned and kicked at the spider’s sides. It turned and began to scuttle along the uneven landscape of the Stoneworld; they all turned their horses and followed, heading for the distant, dark Wild.

 

* * *

 

There was something far less intimidating about approaching the Wild this time around. Maybe because it wasn’t dark, wasn’t storming, and there wasn’t that hysterical urgency of needing to find Gavin, to make sure he was safe.

Still. It didn’t mean it wasn’t unsettling to see the dark trees looming up ahead of them, even if Jack knew there was no danger in there, not anymore. But the funny tingle down his spine he’d gotten last time was still there, that feeling of _wrongness,_ like they were stepping out of Earth into some other realm, some world of dreams and fairies you could too easily lose yourself in.

He could see his hesitance mirrored in the others, even Ryan’s jaw tightening as they got closer - the soldiers they’d brought skittish and uncertain. But Gavin, heading the party on his monstrous steed, seemed perfectly comfortable, and started to laugh the closer they got.

“I haven’t invested in a gate yet. Guess not all of us like to build walls,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Ryan, who stared blankly back at him. “But I suppose the next thing on my construction list should be a welcome sign. Maybe some lanterns. It would be funny if there was just a door leading in, and nothing around it, wouldn’t it? There’s a path now, at least.”

There was, indeed, a makeshift sort of trail leading into the forest, where trees had been haphazardly cleared, although the trail itself wasn’t very worn. Jack supposed there were no horses to go down it, only the light footsteps of mobs and spiders and Gavin himself.

The Wild king paused before the treeline and turned, gaze running over all of them before he laughed again.

“There’s no need to be scared,” he said. He was addressing the Plains soldiers specifically - they were staring at him, and Jack realised with a jolt how strange it must be for _them_ , too. They’d all known Gavin - seen him around the court. Been friends with him, and Dan too. He hadn’t thought of how odd it must be for them to see him like this now. But Gavin’s voice softened then, became more sincere. “I mean it. The only dangers in here are the mobs, and they’re under my control. Stay close and you won’t get lost. I know where I’m going.”

He smiled, and Jack smiled back - saw Michael, a little to his left, do the same - then Gavin turned and his spider scuttled into the forest. Michael was the first to kick his horse to follow, the others trailing after him.

As soon as they crossed the border Gavin suddenly stopped short, stiffening - his back straightening like he’d been pulled up by puppet strings. All the other kings reacted the same way - beside him, Jack heard Geoff gasp, and when he turned to look at him he found a funny, almost dazed look on his face, one hand up and clutching at his chest.

“Geoff?” he called out. “What’s going on?”

“Sir?” The desert soldiers had noticed something wrong too. “King Ray, are you-”

“I’m fine,” Ray snapped, but there was something wrong with him too - he was clutching his reins in a white-knuckled grip - but after a moment he shook himself and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. We’re all good.”

“What the fuck was that,” Michael asked.

“Was _what_?” Jack demanded, feeling rather left out - he twisted around to look at Ryan, who’d been riding behind them - the other man had gone completely tense, jaw clenched so hard there was a vein popping in his throat. “What’s going on with all of you?”

Gavin had shaken himself too. He laughed again, but it was shaky and his eyes were huge.

“Well that was bloody weird.”

“ _What_ was weird?” Jack pressed, starting to get rather annoyed by no one answering. He’d never felt so out of the loop as now. “Geoff - are you okay? What happened?”

“Just felt funny for a moment,” Geoff replied, so very helpfully.

“Okay, but what does _funny_ mean? Did it hurt?”

“It didn’t hurt.” Thank the gods for Michael, the only one who apparently knew how to _explain_ anything. “For a moment the… the connection, the crown bond, felt really strong. Like, _really_ strong, it’s - it’s hard to explain to someone who’s never felt it, but it was like when Gavin first put on the crown. It’s faded since then but for a moment, when we came in here - it was… a surge, I suppose. Like for a moment I was _all_ of them, I could feel…”

He trailed off. Jack could only stare at him.

He couldn’t imagine it. He’d never been able to imagine it - what it must feel like to be constantly aware of the others, all the time. And he’d been envious of Geoff, for a while after Gavin took the crown, for being able to have that connection with him, even if Geoff had never spoken much about it. And here and now, he couldn’t _understand_ , and he felt acutely left out - especially because he could see Geoff avoiding looking at Gavin, and Ryan, and Ray not looking at Michael, and knew that whatever it was between them, it was both strong and _intimate_. He wanted that with Geoff. He wanted it with Gavin.

“That didn’t happen last time,” Ryan spoke up abruptly. “When we came after Free. We all stepped into the Wild and that _didn’t happen_.”

“Maybe because no one was wearing the Wild crown,” Gavin mused - Ryan glanced at him, then shook his head.

“Either way, it’s passed now. A fluke, probably.”

“Not very scientific of you,” Gavin said, but Ryan just frowned at him. He clearly was not in the mood to talk about this.

“Are we going, or are we to stand here in the trees all day? It’s already getting late.”

Gavin pulled a face at him, but shook himself and began to move again. Ray soon followed, and the party began to ride into the forest. Jack turned to Geoff, who still seemed distracted, gazing into the distance absently.

“Geoff?” he asked quietly. “What was it?”

He wanted the other man to try and explain it to him - the way Michael had, but in his own words, how it’d affected _him_ \- he’d never wanted to ask Geoff, these last eight months, what Gavin was doing. How much he could feel him. Hadn’t wanted to anger or upset him. But now, he hoped Geoff might talk to him about it.

Except Geoff just shook his head.

“Like Ryan said,” he replied, voice tight. “Just a fluke. This place is fucked up - nothing feels right here.”

He kicked at his horse and rode away. Jack stared after him, a little hurt by being brushed off like that. He told himself that Geoff was just stressed, and unsettled - but couldn’t help but watch all the other kings as he trailed after him, staring at each of them and their tense shoulders and straight backs. Wondering what it felt like to be inside their heads.

 

* * *

 

Gavin would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as they approached the castle. Just a little - a worming apprehension in the pit of his belly that he struggled to ignore. He didn’t want to be. Didn’t want to care what they thought of him. But he’d poured so much into this work that finally showing outsiders - showing these other _kings_ \- was terrifying, like baring a part of himself that felt too personal and vulnerable.

But he’d never let it show.

As they approached the castle, the narrow trail turned into a proper, wide road, something more well-worn and clear of trees. There were draugr sentries posted at intervals, and as they passed Gavin had them stand up and twirl, or dance, or bow mockingly to the passing kings. He saw them shift closer together, as well as they could on horseback, clearly unsettled by the display. _Good_.

“Here we are then, boys,” he called out, as the castle wall drew up ahead of them. Two draugr moved forward to pull open the heavy wooden gates, and Gavin let out a piercing whistle that echoed through the trees, alerting the others to their coming.

As they entered the courtyard, the sounds of construction rang out distantly from deeper in the forest. Axes ringing against trees, the clatter of stone on stone - the rattle of draugrs’ bones as they moved, and the metallic clanging of pickaxes.

Behind him, Gavin heard the others let out startled breaths. He looked around himself, unable to hold in his smile.

The large wall that surrounded the castle had been mostly rebuilt. It stood tall and proud, now, and as they entered the castle grounds it was unrecognisable from the ruins that’d been here when he first arrived. The rubble and debris had been cleared from the gardens. In their place were neat vegetable patches, a chicken coop and a small fenced off area containing pigs. Smoke rose from a number of furnaces off to the side, and draugr and zombies moved freely through the space, carrying things - firewood. Buckets of coal. A brace of fish on a stick. Others with wheelbarrows or sleds, carting materials to the construction site some distance away.

This portion of the castle was already rebuilt. All the current repairs were on another section, deeper in the woods. But from this angle, you couldn't see the work, just what had already been reconstructed.

It was a magnificent building.

It was different to the traditional, grandiose castle of the Plains, with its solid square turrets and the history of generations behind it. Or to Ryan’s smooth, unwelcoming fortress, as devoid of feeling as the rest of the Stoneworld.

Rather, it was a patchwork building, with bits and pieces sticking out in a chaotic sort of randomness that made it at once unsettling, yet impossible to look away from. The massive trees of the Wild were wound through it, their trunks forming parts of the structure. Some places had been rebuilt with dark wood, others with mismatched stone. In the windows, green curtains fluttered in place of glass. Parts of the walls were covered in creeping lines of brambles.

Some would probably consider it an abomination of architecture. But Gavin thought there was an untamed sort of beauty in it. The jagged unevenness of the structure, the different textures and colours, made it look like some sort of ancient beast itself, half-disguised amongst the foliage, the dark windows its eyes, the enormous entryway its mouth.

Whatever any of the others thought, it was here, and it was incredible, and it was _home_ \- the sunlight was fading now, even here in the clearing, and there was warm firelight coming from inside the castle, as well as the torches that ringed the pillars and columns he’d rebuilt leading up to the entrance. It might not have had the structure and busyness of Ryan’s city, or the homely crowds of the Plains capital, but it still felt like walking into a court as they made their way up to the door - mostly because he silently bid the mobs stop what they were doing, and line up to watch them as they approached, a solemn crowd of inhuman faces.

Gavin came to a halt first, the others pausing behind him. There was silence, and when he looked over his shoulder they seemed uncomfortable, not meeting the eyes of the creatures. When they weren’t faced by politicians, noblemen, citizens, none of them seemed to know what to do with themselves, and he could only roll his eyes as he leaped off his spider and tapped her on the flank, sending her scuttling away to join the other monsters.

“Come on out,” he called, glancing around. “It’s okay, they’re with me. They’ll be staying here a while.”

There was a pause - he saw Geoff and Jack glance at each other. Ryan’s hand was on the hilt of his sword.

Then Dan emerged from just inside the entranceway, where he’d been lurking unseen in the shadows. He came up by Gavin’s side, clutching his own weapon, and Gavin moved to meet him.

“Everything okay, B?” Dan muttered, casting the other kings a wary glance. All of the others had been worried about him going to meet Ryan - had feared it was some sort of trap or trick. Only the fact that they’d seen the dragon too had convinced them it was a genuine meeting.

“I’m fine,” Gavin replied, and gave a mocking grin. “They need our _help._ ”

Dan snorted, loudly enough for the others to hear, and Gavin laughed.

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction. They weren’t polite about it either.”

“Figures.”

Gavin patted him on the shoulder before turning back to the others. They were still on horseback, the soldiers staring warily at the mobs watching them, and Gavin stepped forward and waved a hand.

“Lower your weapons,” he said. “The monsters won’t hurt you. Can’t you see they’re working for me? Look, that one’s holding flowers.”

“Gavin,” a voice called, and he looked up to see Barbara perched on top of one of the pillars, alarm on her face and her dagger in hand. He knew all the others were around, too, even if it was still silent.

“Come down here,” he assured her. “It’s alright.” He glanced around the clearing again. “All of you.”

Barbara looked wary. She had good reason to be - he knew all his people here disliked kings, or authority of any sort. But they trusted _him_ , and after a moment she hopped down and came to stand by his side. Blaine stepped out from behind another of the columns, making Ray - whose horse was nearby - startle a little at his sudden appearance.

That seemed to convince the others. Aaron emerged from the castle and moved up, close by Barbara’s side, the two of them a lethal, dangerous looking pair as they glared at their visitors. Chris and Brandon were next, slipping from where they’d been hiding in the trees - they had their bows raised at the ready, their shoulders tense, but they lowered them at a warning glance from Gavin.

And then Gus, from somewhere deep in the crowds of mobs - slowly, dragging his feet, his brow furrowed suspiciously at the newcomers. Griffon was the last to arrive - she’d been at the furnaces and her face was smudged with cinders and ash. She planted her hands on her hips, openly scowling at the kings.

The whole group of them flanked Gavin. He might’ve been standing in front, their leader, but there was something protective in the gesture. Here they were, his merry band all dressed in matching green - like creepers emerging from the shadows, their chins lifted defiantly as they stared up at their visitors.

He could see the others staring right back - Ryan’s face cold, the others’ mostly confused and curious. After a moment, Gavin spread his hands out.

“Welcome to the Wild court,” he declared, his voice ringing through the clearing. “We call this place Achievement City. It’s probably unnecessary, but I suppose for the sake of breaking the ice I’ll introduce you all. As you can probably guess,” he continued, glancing over his shoulder at the others, “That’s Ryan over there, the one that looks like he’s just sucked a lemon. There’s Geoff, and that’s Jack - his advisor, yeah? That I told you about - there’s Ray, and that’s Michael.”

None of them so much as smiled. Gavin did, though, grinning as he turned back to the kings.

“And these are my friends. I’m sure you’ll get to know them all soon enough. Don’t expect them to bow - there are no titles, here. No hierarchy. I suppose I make most of the decisions, but for the most part everyone is equal.”

“That is not how government works,” Ryan said, stiffly.

“Well,” Gavin replied, cheerfully, “Lucky this isn’t a government, then. I might be the Wild king, but they’re not my subjects. They’re my friends.”

Ryan let out a derisive snort.

“That sort of attitude is a surefire way to get yourself killed one night while you’re sleeping,” he sneered.

“Believe it or not, Ryan,” Gavin shot back, “I _trust_ them all. A foreign concept, I’m sure. When you don’t dictate over everyone who lives in your city, I find people are much less inclined to want to bump you off.”

Ryan just tossed his head, and Gavin clapped his hands together, wanting to move on.

“They’re not here to wait on you,” he informed the kings. “I’m sure you can take care of yourselves. But if you do find yourself needing anything… ask politely, and I’m sure they can help you find it.”

He turned back to the others, ushering them close.

“I’m going to show them around,” he explained, softly enough that the kings couldn’t hear. “Get back to your work for now but… keep an eye out, and be careful. The mobs will back you up if any of them tries anything.”

“How long are they staying for?” Barbara hissed. “What do they _want_ here?”

“Not long, hopefully,” Gavin replied. “We’re gonna head deeper in, explore the north jungle - I’ll tell you all everything once I’ve got them settled, okay?”

“Need backup?” It was Griffon who asked, her voice careful and calm but something fiercely protective in her eyes. Gavin gave her a small smile.

“I’ll just take Dan. But, you know, if you hear me suddenly start screaming or anything, come and make sure they’re not murdering me. If anyone’s gonna try kill me, it’ll be one of them. But for now, the amount of mobs around should deter them from trying anything.”

“I don’t know why the fuck you brought them in here,” Gus muttered - he was so tense his shoulders were practically up around his ears, and after a moment he cast Ryan an unabashedly hateful look. “Especially him.”

“I know,” Gavin replied. “And I promise, I’ll explain everything later, okay? For now let me get them in their rooms.”

He met each of their eyes, and they nodded. Patting Gus and Barbara, standing closest to him, on the shoulders, he turned back to the kings.

“I’ll give you the guided tour now,” he said. “But your men don’t need to come. Chris and Aaron will help them find somewhere to keep the horses, then show them to the living quarters. The rest of you, come with me.”

They glanced at each other hesitantly, the soldiers looking to their respective leaders for confirmation. At their nods, they dismounted - and soon everyone was drifting away, the mobs getting back to work and the soldiers dispersing along with Gavin’s people. Barbara cast Gavin a worried look as she left, but he smiled at her reassuringly.

Gavin and Dan were left standing alone, and after a moment Jack moved towards them.

“Dan,” he said - the other man looked a bit surprised to be addressed, but when Jack smiled at him, he smiled back. “How have you been?”

“Well, thanks, Jack,” he replied, but Gavin could see both Jack and Geoff staring at him. He didn’t look much like the clean-cut soldier from the Plains, his own beard grown out and shaggy, a rough look to him that came from spending so long in the outdoors. His uniform was long gone, replaced by the creeper-skin tunics all the Wild citizens wore.

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but Michael cut in first.

“Holy shit, Gavin,” he said, staring around. “This place is amazing. You weren’t joking, you really got things up and running.”

“We’re still working on a lot of things,” Gavin replied. “But it’s come a long way since I arrived. I guess that’s the good thing about having a tireless workforce at my beck and call…”

He shrugged, but couldn’t help but watch them closely, seeking approval. He got it - Michael and Jack were staring around in admiration, Ray nodding as well as he took in the gardens and farms. Even Ryan and Geoff looked grudgingly impressed.

“Where’d you get the animals?” Ray asked. Gavin turned to him and found genuine curiosity in his eyes.

“They must’ve wandered in at some point - escaped from Stoneworld farms and then bred. The chickens were nesting in the caves up near the cliffs. The pigs are actually wild boar - we caught some of them young and began raising them.” He shifted, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he surveyed the work - Brandon had gone back to tending the crops, a zombie bringing him buckets of water. “Food was the main problem at first. We foraged for a long time. Lived off the land. Fishing was the best way to eat.”

Those early days had been hard, he remembered grimly. No shelter, food source, or water - but they’d been creative, and canny. They’d survived and built and _grown_.

“It’s amazing,” Jack said softly, and the pride in his voice made something too emotional well up in Gavin’s chest. He forced a grin, and clapped his hands together.

“Well, you’ll dine on the fruits of our labour tonight. For now, let me show you around.”

He led the way into the castle, Dan by his side. Most of the others hung back, warily - Geoff had grabbed Jack’s hand, Gavin noted drily, and was keeping him close - but Michael came up to walk with him, shooting him, then Dan, a small smile.

The interior of the building was just as impressive as the outside, the doorway opening into an expansive entrance hall. It lacked the constant movement of nobles and servants that other palaces had - an empty, echoing chamber, eerie in its stillness. But while it lacked _people_ , there were still signs that the building was lived in. The walls were lined with carved wooden sculptures - impressive things, some of them twisting abstract shapes, others intricately whittled beasts; an enderman, a creeper, a draugr’s head - Griffon had done those.

In the centre of the room was an enormous fire pit, filling the big room with much-needed warmth as the sun set. Leading off from this chamber were several other living areas that had been rebuilt.

“The bedrooms are through there,” Gavin said. “And those are storage rooms, where we keep everything we make or grow to use later.”

He led them through the hall, past rows of tables - makeshift plates and dishes stacked on some, another set up with an abandoned game of blocks. A fond smile touched his lips as he thought of the evenings spent here with the others, talking and laughing around the fire.

“There are washrooms down that hall,” he continued, turning to the others. “We have a water supply set up. That took ages to build and we flooded a few times trying to get it all to work, but it’s well worth it.”

“Okay,” Michael said, but they were all distracted, looking around the room. “That’s a lot of fucking cats.”

Ah yes. The cats.

There had to be at least a dozen of them, lounging in the warmth of the fire. They’d looked up at the others’ entrance, but none of them bothered to move, long used to humans by now. Gavin laughed - he’d gotten so used to them hanging around that he’d totally forgotten it probably looked strange to the others to see so many.

“I told you about how animals know that I’m the Wild king,” he replied. “I guess they can sense it or something? Anyway, there are heaps of strays in the Wild and they started hanging around here. When we fed them, they stayed. There have to be about… fifty, maybe? Just living all over the place now. They aren’t scared of the mobs any more. I think they realise I can control them and that they’re no longer a threat.”

“So many cats,” Jack murmured, looking around, and Gavin could only grin - he knew Jack loved them, had always spent time with the ones that lived in the kitchens and stables of the castle back at the Plains. He crossed to what he knew was one of the friendlier ones - that he’d dubbed Lloyd - and picked her up.

“It’s really nice having them here,” he said, scratching the cat behind the ears. “Especially before we found the others. Made it less lonely, I guess?”

He offered Jack the cat and the other man smiled, moving forward to take it - but Geoff grabbed his hand and pulled him back. Jack looked at him and Geoff shook his head slowly.

A pang hit Gavin. It had been hard, seeing the others here. Brought back too many memories, too many _feelings_ he’d been trying to push back.

He thought he might still love them.

It had been easy to tell himself he was over them when he didn’t have to _see_ them - but now, being together again, all he could think of was how close they used to be, how comfortable with each other - all the grand times they’d had. But it was very clear, now, that the two of them were together - that they were _happy_ together - that they’d moved on without him. Maybe Ryan was right. What had he thought would happen, when he left them?

Better not to dwell on it. Better not to give himself false hope and just accept that it was _over_ , and focus on the new things he’d built here.

He forced himself to keep smiling, cradling the cat to his own chest as he ushered the others along.

“Anyway. Moving on.”

He led them down another corridor towards the deeper rooms of the castle, trying to ignore Jack and Geoff’s hushed whispering behind him.

“So where’d you meet the others?” Michael asked. He’d come up by Gavin’s side, but the question was loud enough that it was clearly meant for everyone to hear.

“I knew there were others here in the Wild. Bandits, thieves - what you all told me about before. Once I had something of a place set up here, I started seeking them out. It wasn’t difficult - the mobs can explore for me and let me know when they find someone. I had a rule,” he replied, with a smile. “If they chose to join us, and contribute to the community, then they could become part of the settlement. But if they didn’t, then they wouldn’t fall under my protection, I wouldn’t keep the mobs from harming them, and they’d have to survive on their own. I never drove anyone out, never killed anyone myself, but some of the bad eggs - the ones I could tell had done awful things and that I couldn’t trust - the mobs finished them off without my help. I’m sure some of them are still out there, running and hiding - but if anyone gets near the castle, the guards take care of them.”

“So they’re all criminals,” Ray said flatly, and Gavin glanced over at him.

“No,” he replied. “Some of them were driven out by Queen Haywood’s regime. Some were on the run from things other than the law. We all have our own stories. But everyone here, I’ve gotten to know - gotten to _trust_. They are not bad people.” He looked around at all of them. “No more than any of us are.”

He heard Ryan let out a little exhale of breath, but when he glanced at him, the other man’s face was blank.

They emerged into the grand throne room. It was still quite barren, just the raised dais and the chair with its thorns and spikes at one end of the room - but he’d repaired the holes in the roof now, and torches lined the walls. Only one was lit, and he deposited Lloyd on the floor and moved to ignite the others.

“The construction site extends just beyond here,” he said. “We’re rebuilding the other side of the castle - the kitchens, the big dining hall. Not many people to fill it, but we need something other than living in ruins.”

“How do you even go about doing something like that?” Ray asked - he’d been wary when he came in, but he looked genuinely curious now. “You have no materials, no builders, no plans…”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty hard, actually,” Gavin admitted. He climbed halfway up the stairs to the throne and then sat down on the steps, clicking his fingers at the cat to try and get her to come back to him. “It’s not like I can just tell the mobs _rebuild_ and suddenly they know exactly what to do. That’s not how the gift works. I have to basically imagine exactly what I need them to do and then they do it - and they still have to obey the laws of building science or whatever.”

“Physics,” Ryan muttered, and Gavin glanced at him.

“Physics. But anyway, first I just had them gather heaps of supplies and start mining. And I remembered a lot from books I’d read back in the Plains library, about building and civilisation and all that, and I drew up plans and got them started. It didn’t work out at first. We built a massive stretch of wall and then it all just fell down because the shit we used to stick the rocks together didn’t work...”

He trailed off, suddenly worried he was boring them - unsure why he even cared. But they were all watching him intently - still, he shrugged and moved on.

“Anyway. We tried different things and then when Griffon and Gus came along they both had a _much_ better idea of what the hell they were doing than I did. Griffon used to build things back when she lived in the Plains - she’s amazing with wood, she did all those sculptures back in the hall - and Gus did all these calculations to make sure things would actually stay up. So the two of them having taken over most of the planning, now, and I just get the mobs to do what they say. Those spiders are actually the most crucial part of the building process. They can get up high and their web is really strong.”

The others were all staring at him, and he shifted a bit self-consciously - but realised, after a second, that Michael and Ray looked impressed - that Jack was smiling proudly.

“But yeah,” he murmured, a bit embarrassed now. “It was a lot of just throwing stuff together going _what the fuck am I doing_ at first, but… apparently it worked, because I have a castle now!” And then, when they still didn’t answer, he added a bit lamely, “Yay!”

Geoff was still looking at him, but when Gavin met his eyes he quickly looked away - up at the throne instead.

“That’s a painful looking chair,” he muttered, eyeing the spikes and brambles.

“It’s not super comfortable,” Gavin agreed cheerfully. “Needs a cushion or something.”

“So where do you keep the crown?” Ryan piped up, a bit _too_ nonchalantly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Gavin said, and stuck his tongue out at him.

“Here’s an actually important question,” Ray chimed in. “Is that _blood_ on the floor?”

“Yeah, it was there when I got here,” Gavin replied, glancing at the dark stains on the steps next to him. “I couldn’t get it out. Need to throw a rug over it or something. I’m still trying to figure out what happened there.” He sighed heavily. “Turns out the previous kings didn’t keep very good records of who killed who, and who had the crown at what time. I’ve pieced a few things together, but nothing solid. I’m guessing someone killed someone else there for the throne.”

He glanced over at Michael. Truth be told, he was hoping that the other man could help him fill in some of the gaps in his knowledge - that he might know the history of the Wild kings more than Gavin did, since his father would’ve felt whenever the crown changed hands. Gavin needed to know that, to fill in the missing pieces of the jigsaw.

His investigation into his family depended on it.

Ryan was looking at the blood with a frown, and Gavin glanced at him before getting to his feet.

“Anyway!” he declared. “Come over here.”

He jumped down the stairs and ushered them behind the dais, where a large table was pushed against the back wall of the room. Laid out on it was a large map - dark brush strokes painted on sheets of paperbark.

“Is that your handwriting?” Michael asked. “Because that’s seriously impressive.”

“My handwriting looks like a five year old’s,” Gavin laughed. “Anything lovely and artistic around here is Griffon’s doing. This has more detail on the Wild than your map, Ryan.”

“My people haven’t had much opportunity to explore here,” Ryan replied, a little defensively.

“Of course. Everywhere that we’ve been, we’ve added to this.” His fingers traced over the cave systems they’d mapped out - every resource they’d come across, be it fruit trees, minerals or streams, had been lovingly added to the map. There were still blank areas that remained unexplored, and he pointed to one of these.

“This is about where the dragon came from. There are old temples and buildings there. I’ve never been inside them, but maybe there’s something there that can tell us more. It’s about a day’s travel from here. The Wild is big. I’m thinking it’d be easier if we brought camping equipment and stayed there.”

“Sounds solid,” Ray muttered.

Gavin glanced up at them.

“The terrain is very hard to travel through,” he said carefully. “It’ll be faster if we just bring mobs and golems, not your human soldiers.”

Geoff looked instantly suspicious.

“And what are they meant to do? Just sit on their asses back here?”

“Stay ready to back us up if we need them,” Gavin replied. “Too many people will slow us down when we’re trying to travel.”

“And you’re sure the dragon came from there?” Ryan asked, slowly.

Gavin shrugged.

“It definitely came from inside the Wild.” He pointed further north. “I’ve sent mobs all the way to the border. Just like every other kingdom, eventually there’s nothing but cliffs and then endless ocean. Who knows what’s beyond. Maybe that’s where it came from - but it definitely spent time in here.”

There was a glum silence as they all stared at the map. Eventually, another cat wandered into the room - they all jumped a little at the movement, turning to stare at it, and after a moment Michael let out a nervous laugh.

“This place is fucking weird,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “Dragons, fucking _cats_ everywhere, your bigass empty castle… it feels like a ghost town.”

“It is one,” Ryan said grimly. “Long ago something wiped out everyone here.”

“No one knows what happened to the Wild,” Jack spoke up suddenly - something thoughtful in it. “But it’s a bit strange that it’s where all these things have been coming from.”

“Maybe for the first time someone can find some answers,” Gavin piped up. “We’re making history, lads.”

“We are not your _lads_ ,” Ryan said coldly, and Gavin just shrugged again, turning back to the map.

Jack was right. There was something strange about this place, always had been. And he was comfortable here, for a number of reasons - because he’d made it his own, because of the magic in the air that seemed to breathe life into him, because he was tied to the mobs here and had nothing to fear - but he couldn’t deny the fact that the unsolved mystery of what had destroyed everything so many centuries ago was haunting. Lingered in the ruins that he walked through every day, in the jungle that was unnatural in its thickness and the twisted and overgrown plants that had taken over what had once been civilisation.

He shook himself.

“Anyway,” he said. “We’ll stay here tonight. It’s hard to travel in the dark. So go and rest up - I’ll show you each to your rooms, although you’ll have to use your own bedrolls. The one thing we haven’t made yet are feather mattresses, I’m afraid - but the heather we sleep on is pretty soft.”

“We’ve been camping the last eight months,” Jack assured him with a smile. “A few more weeks won’t kill us.”

Gavin smiled back, but looked away quickly, catching himself. _Stop it. Don’t start getting friendly. Don’t start_ hoping.

“We’ll eat in a few hours,” Dan spoke up, next to him. “I’ll go see what the others are up to.”

Gavin nodded, and Dan left the room. Gavin led the others out through a different door, towards the living quarters they’d rebuilt. They had a lot of spare rooms that hadn’t been filled yet, and they were eerily empty, although as they approached there was a bit of a racket from the soldiers who had already been shown there and were busy setting up bedrolls and blankets.

It seemed like Aaron had separated the different kingdoms’ soldiers into various areas of the living quarters, and Gavin led each of the kings to their delegations before leaving them to get themselves sorted.

He headed back to the hall to find that Dan had gathered the others. They were waiting at a table by the fire pit when Gavin walked in, muttering amongst themselves - they all looked up when he entered, and he glanced across their worried faces.

“All good?” he asked carefully, sliding to sit down on the bench between Dan and Barbara.

“I don’t like seeing those golems everywhere,” Gus muttered. “I’d rather Haywood had brought human soldiers.”

“There aren’t any around, are there?” Gavin asked, twisting to look around.

Gus shook his head. “They’re all in his room. So why the fuck is he here, anyway?”

They’d all seen the dragon, and Gavin quickly explained the meeting they’d had - how it’d gone to the Plains and Geoff had killed it, how now they were going to the temples to find out where it had come from.

They listened in a tense silence, and when Gavin finished he looked up and found them still looking wary.

“Do you trust them?” Dan asked finally, voice tight.

“No,” Gavin replied, and heaved a tired sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. “I guess I trust Jack and Michael. Possibly.”

“Do you think they’ll kill you?” Blaine spoke up next, and Gavin shook his head.

“No. I don’t. I don’t think they’d go that far. But keep an eye on Ryan,” he added, and they all snorted, rolling their eyes.

They’d heard things, from the Stoneworld. It was impossible not to - they never left the Wild, but occasionally guards or farmers would come to the border looking for soil samples. They’d heard of the increase in golems, of the assassination attempt against the king’s life a few months back - the tightening in security. The public execution of the man responsible. It was hardly reassuring. Not to mention, the building project expanding towards the Wild - now that Ryan had built the golems, he didn’t need to worry about his wall.

“And after this?” Griffon prompted. “What happens once you finish investigating this… whatever it turns out to be? Now that you’ve made contact, I doubt they’ll go back to ignoring you.”

“I hope to trade with Michael and Ray,” Gavin began, but Griffon shook her head - she’d always been able to see through him.

“I mean with Geoff and Jack,” she prompted - Gavin bit his lip.

“Geoff has made it very clear that he hasn’t forgiven me,” he said stiffly. “We’ll have no help from him.”

He kept his voice cold, but the others knew how close he’d been to the Plains king. He hadn’t hidden that from them. Barbara squeezed his shoulder, and when he turned to her she gave a small smile.

“Maybe Jack can bring him around,” she said quietly, and Gavin shook his head.

“No one can make Geoff do anything he doesn’t want to do,” he said with a scoff. “Even Jack.”

There was a pensive silence. He could see the others all exchanging glances, clearly unhappy with the situation.

“This will be awkward,” he said finally, “But hopefully it’ll be over soon and we’ll sort out… whatever the hell this situation is. Fuck, a _dragon_ \- I can’t even imagine what it is we’re gonna find.”

“Dragons… magic…” Gus shook his head.

“They’re not necessarily magic,” Brandon piped up helpfully, and was met with unimpressed looks from the others. “What? It might be some weird, undiscovered species that’s lived here all along! Maybe it’s just an abnormally large lizard that mutated, or something-”

“Trust me,” Gavin sighed, “I saw the first beast up close and personal. It’s definitely magic.”

“Maybe we should find Kdin,” Blaine suggested. “Ask for help. Out of everyone who might know something about this sort of thing…”

“She could be anywhere,” Gus replied. “Hell, she’s probably reached the Plains by now. With no way to contact her…” He trailed off with a helpless shrug and they fell into another silence.

Eventually, Dan turned to Gavin.

“Who’s coming to the temples with you?” he asked.

“None of you,” Gavin replied - they all straightened up indignantly, but he raised a hand for silence before anyone could start arguing. “I need you all here! You gotta keep this place held down and protected - especially with all the others’ soldiers here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with them,” Dan snapped immediately.

“I can take care of myself,” Gavin replied. “I have the mobs.”

“And what if they get you in a room without them? They might hurt you. Capture you, _kill_ you-”

“You guys have the crown,” Gavin pointed out, staring around at them. “Only you know where it’s hidden. If they do anything to me, you’ll retaliate - with the full force of a mob army. I’m safe. If anything does happen…”

He turned to Griffon, who was staring at him, arms folded, concern in her eyes.

“You put it on,” he finished - they’d made these plans long ago.

She nodded slowly, but still didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t think any of this is a good idea,” she murmured. “There’s too much history between all of you… you should tell them to leave. The Wild is your business. We don’t need them here.”

“A dragon is a greater danger to us, another beast is, than any of them,” Gavin pointed out.

“From the sounds of it, these beasts are getting killed pretty easily,” Blaine muttered - Gavin shot him a withering look, and he raised his hands. “What? It’s true! You killed one all on your own, and it sounds like Geoff took his down pretty quickly-”

“With heavy losses,” Gavin argued. “Look, we can’t risk it, alright? What if more come? _Lots_ more, all at once? And though I hate to admit it, Ryan’s right - of everyone, he has the best chance at figuring out how to solve this. Scientifically speaking.”

He stood up, looking around at them all - the firelight flickering over their concerned faces. The matching clothes that marked them as a group, a community - surrounded by these walls they’d built together.

“Look,” he said, more gently. “We’ve made a good go of it. And I know you don’t like them - I get why, I really do. But we could never stay isolated forever. Maybe now, I can at least get Michael to trust me again, and with Michael comes Ray, and then there’ll be trade - supplies and materials we _need._ Or that’s the plan. But no matter what, we’ll all stay together, okay? I’ll keep in touch with you all via the mobs.”

After a moment Dan nodded, and before long the others followed - exchanging glances with each other, Aaron reaching out to squeeze Barbara’s shoulder, Griffon leaning across the table to press Gavin’s arm and smile at him reassuringly. He smiled back, shoulders squaring, forcing determination over any nerves he might be feeling.

“They won’t be bringing soldiers,” he replied. “Just golems. So it’ll just be the six of us. What a lovely family trip - all the kings off, putting their brains together… and Jack, too.” He laughed. “What could go wrong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[My playlist for Gavin in this story :')](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/wild)  
>  **
> 
> And some more awesome fanart: <3
> 
> [Jester and King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146436676539/ookami-tenshi-gavin-from) by ookami-tenshi
> 
> [Another WIP of the group cover](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146436201504/greatahw-another-wip-of-whalehuntingboyfriends) by greatahw
> 
> [Gavin and the spider](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146386557599/unimpairablediscord-i-was-reading) by unimpairablediscord


	4. Chapter 4

****“Hardly royal accommodation,” Ray muttered, looking around the room Gavin had left them in.

It was fairly small compared to the chambers they had at home, but the lack of furnishings made it seem bigger - there were bare stone walls, no windows, and just a single torch on the wall lighting up the room. By all accounts it should’ve felt like a prison cell - but the walls were well-built and kept the heat of the torch in, and there were neatly made wooden floorboards and a makeshift mattress of heather in one corner of the room. That gave it an oddly homely touch.

“It’s better than a lot of places I’ve slept when travelling in the Alps,” Michael replied, apparently just to be contrary. “Out on the battlefield or in the wild, you get used to sleeping rough. But I guess you have no idea what that’s like - after all, you’ve spent most of your life in the palace, haven’t you? Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on coming if you can’t put up with it.”

Ray bit his lip. Since arriving in the Wild they’d mostly ignored each other, but it seemed Michael was straight back to hostilities. Well then.

“Just observing,” he replied, voice tight. “Not complaining.”

“Sounded a lot like complaining to me-”

“Can we not fucking do this?” Ray burst out, without thinking about it. The ragged edge to his voice stopped Michael in his tracks, and Ray clenched his fists. His hands were shaking, and he didn’t know why - just that he was done. He had nothing left to give.

“Just…” he swallowed hard, staring up at the dark shadows of the ceiling, too-aware of Michael’s eyes on him. “I’m tired of it. I’m so fucking _tired_ of it. Not right now, okay?”

Michael was staring at him. He didn’t seem to know what to say, and Ray squeezed his eyes shut, his heavy breathing too loud in the silence. He reached up and massaged his temples. _Gods_.

He still loved Michael.

He wished he didn’t.

It would be so much _easier_. Because right now it _hurt_ \- the jabs, the barbs they constantly threw at each other. He always shot them back, in self-defence more than anything else. Never felt good about them.

Michael was silent. When Ray finally worked up the courage to look over at him, the other man was staring at him. He didn’t look angry. His eyes were wide, his face pale.

“I don’t hate you, Ray,” he said abruptly.

There was something too sincere in the words. It felt like a punch to the chest, and Ray took a step back.

“What?” he croaked.

“What you said before…” Michael shook his head. He looked upset now, not angry, and Ray didn’t know what to _do_ \- a Michael who was furious, who hated him, at least he knew what to do with that. At least he could fight back. A Michael who was sad, _hurt_ … he couldn’t stand that.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeated, and Ray turned away.

He couldn’t hear this. Couldn’t get his hopes up. The words should make him happy, but they _didn’t_ \- just made him feel self-conscious, and embarrassed, and far, _far_ too vulnerable. And this whole time, part of the problem had been his constant feeling that Michael had more power in this situation. The power to turn him down. The power to hurt him, to _hate_ him - that was why he’d been lashing out, too, trying to retain some sense of being in control.

“But you wish I wasn’t here,” he choked out finally, and hated how shaky his voice was. “You wish we weren’t together.”

“I just…” Michael shook his head helplessly, something pleading in it. “I need space, sometimes.”

Ray swallowed hard. He felt like he might cry. Looking at Michael now, he seemed on the verge of tears too. It was easy to yell and shout and throw almost ridiculous insults at each other. But this was too real, too raw.

“Yeah, well,” he replied. “Here you go then.”

He walked out of the room, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to stop himself shaking. He was breathing too fast - Michael didn’t call after him, which he was glad for. He didn’t think he could be around any of the others right now.

The corridors outside were empty, the faint voices of the soldiers ringing from inside the rooms. Ray walked, and walked - he didn’t know where he was going, didn’t remember which way anything was. Everything was a blur.

Eventually he came to another area of the living quarters and paused when he saw Jack, emerging from what must be his room.

“King Ray!” he greeted - he started to bow, but Ray waved a hand, trying to walk faster to get past him. “We’re about to discuss some things-”

“Busy,” Ray replied curtly.

Suddenly Jack was right in front of him and he had to stop short to avoid bumping into him. He looked up with a scowl, but it faltered when he found the other man staring at him with genuine concern.

“You okay?” Jack asked softly.

Ray opened his mouth to tell him to get out of the way - but paused suddenly, overwhelmed by the need to _tell_ somebody what was going on.

“Everything you said when we spoke last time,” he began. “How you… you said if you were close to someone, things would work out no matter what? It didn’t work. It wasn’t _true_. You were so _sure_ but it… it didn’t work for me, I… how can I move on and be friends with him with all _this_ between us?”

Jack stared at him. It was pretty fucking obvious who Ray was talking about, and Ray knew he must remember the conversation they’d had, back during the games. After a moment, he threw his hands up.

“He doesn’t love me back,” he said, and to finally say it out loud was both a relief and a terrible pain. “He doesn’t love me back, Jack, there’s… there’s no happy ending, here.”

“Ray.” Jack’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and Ray barely even registered the lack of his title. “Everything will be okay if you just-”

“Don’t you get sick of it?” Ray cut in, desperately. “Don’t you ever get _so sick of it_?”

He clutched at his chest before he even realised it. Since they entered the Wild the crown bond had felt stronger, some weird tug seeming to pull his consciousness towards the others. It’d faded a little since they first came in here, but he could still feel it too strongly - Michael’s presence lingering constantly in the back of his mind. Warm, like a fire - he always had been, compared to Ryan, who was like a sheet of ice most of the time.

And it was terrible now, when he needed _distance_ more than anything. Needed some space too, but couldn’t have it, not when the others were constantly in his head and his heart.

Jack couldn’t understand that. But that wasn’t what Ray meant, and a flash of hurt crossed the other man’s face before he bowed his head slowly.

“Yes,” he replied softly. “I do. Maybe things worked out between Geoff and I. But it was never _just_ Geoff. This whole time, knowing Gavin’s out here on his own - being unable to _be_ with him, or even _talk_ about him with Geoff - this terrible, unspoken tragedy that neither of us could get over… yes, I’m sick of it.”

Ray stared at him, taken aback by the pain in his face. He’d known this must be hard for Geoff and Ryan, but hadn’t thought much about Jack. Hadn’t realised how terrible it must be for him to have all his hopes crumble.

“And here we are with him again now,” Jack sighed finally.

“Yeah, well,” Ray replied, stiffly. “Imagine that for six fucking months straight.”

Jack stared at him sadly, and Ray hunched his shoulders, stepping past him.

“I need some air,” he said.

“King Ray,” Jack called after him as he started to walk off, but Ray didn’t look back. Couldn’t bring himself to talk about it any more right now - just needed to get out.

Jack didn’t follow him either. Somehow he managed to find his way back to the great hall. It was empty, and the doors were open ahead of him. He burst outside, breathing heavily - it was a relief to get out into the cool evening air, the strong smell of the damp soil and the jungle plants.

There were two draugr standing by either side of the doors. Their heads turned to look at Ray as he exited, but otherwise they didn’t move. Still - the sight of them, so close up, was disconcerting, and Ray wrapped his arms around himself and hurried quickly away.

A few other mobs were wandering around, but otherwise the area looked deserted. He headed for the gardens nearby, the fenced off fields of crops. The sight of them calmed him, as he reached out with his gift and could sense every mineral in the soil, trace the creeping paths of the roots under the earth - cataloguing every plant he came across. Root vegetables, mostly, but some sort of wheat took up one field.

It would be night soon. The last strands of sunlight angled over the gardens now, weak but warming. The orange light made him feel tired. Aside from the distant construction, everything seemed silent and peaceful, and he let out a slow breath. It was nice to finally be alone.

Except, a second later - he realised that there were three people sitting on the ground behind the wheat. They’d been hidden from view by the plants, but he’d gotten so close that they noticed him and stopped talking, staring up at him suspiciously.

It was the blonde woman from earlier, and two men - all of them in creeper green and glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t realise anyone was here.”

They just continued to stare at him, which was hella awkward and rather uncomfortable. It felt strange to be apologising - most of the time people saw a king and got up to bow, themselves being the ones who were flustered. But now these people just looked hostile, and Ray felt very out of place, unsure of himself.

“I’ll go,” he began, turning.

“Wait, Ray!” one of the men called out, and Ray paused in surprise.

“Chris,” the woman hissed. “What are you doing?”

“He’s the Rose King,” Chris replied, as if that meant something. Ray turned back and found him motioning towards the ground. His voice was slow, nervous almost - but sincere. “Want to sit with us? We could do with some constructive criticism on the gardens. None of us are farmers.”

Ray hesitated. But the man was staring at him encouragingly, and after a moment he crouched and pressed a hand to the ground.

“The plants look healthy to me. But the soil’s a bit too wet. Don’t overwater them, that does more harm than good. I can fix it?”

Chris nodded, and Ray called on his gift, drawing the excess water out of the earth and making it richer, more fertile, a strong scent filling the air. After a moment he ran his mind quickly through the plants and gave some of them a little boost - the wheat grew taller, the flowers that ringed the field blossomed, and beneath the soil the vegetables swelled and grew larger, riper.

The three of them stared around in awe, and after a moment Chris grinned.

“Thanks!” he said, and Ray tentatively smiled back. He sat down after a moment, and Chris pointed to his companions.

“That’s Barbara,” he said. “And he’s Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ray began.

“Is it?” Barbara asked, challengingly.

Ray just shrugged, and they glanced at each other before settling back down. Ray felt acutely like an outsider, sitting a little apart from the rest of them, but couldn’t help his own curiosity.

“What’s it like living here, then?” he asked.

Barbara was still looking at him suspiciously, but after a moment seemed to realise the question was genuine. Her shoulders relaxed a little.

“Better than running around in the Wild on our own,” she replied, and then added, a bit defensively, “Gavin’s made a good go of things.”

“Looks like it,” Ray said. “This whole place is really damn impressive, you know.”

He wasn’t lying. He’d been surprised walking in here exactly how much Gavin had done. He’d certainly made a productive use of his eight months. If he was honest, Ray wasn’t sure if he would’ve been motivated enough to do the same.

It was strange, looking at Gavin now. In many ways, Ray had the most distance. He hadn’t been close to Gavin like the others - so he hadn’t been as hurt. Didn’t have that simmering resentment. And he didn’t hate the man - he hadn’t been the cause of any of Ray’s problems. Any lingering doubts he might’ve had about the other man’s abilities had been wiped away by seeing the castle. As far as Ray was concerned, he’d more than earned the crown at this point - and better he had it than Ryan. The Stone king’s golem army already made him too powerful.

“It’s nice here,” Aaron added, quietly. “Away from people. Now that Gavin’s king and it’s safer, it doesn’t even matter that it’s the Wild.”

“There’s something to be said for living alone in nature,” Chris said, in an exaggeratedly wise voice.

“Only now that we have plumbing,” Barbara cut in - the others laughed, and she finally smiled. “We just need a swimming pool. Then it will be like being on a permanent holiday- oh! I forgot to tell you, but fucking Blaine went skinny dipping in the stream and I am never drinking from it again.”

That apparently led them all into gossiping about someone who Ray didn’t know. He listened quietly, still feeling oddly shy - the conversation didn’t include him much, but he didn’t mind. It was nice to be able to just sit, and listen, and not have to overthink everything he was going to say.

It was slowly getting darker out here, but he barely noticed. After a moment one of the cats that was always nearby came up to them and Ray pulled it into his lap where it sat, contentedly purring - a comfortable warmth as the sun sank and it got colder out here. But despite the chill in the air, there was something nice about sitting here outdoors, on the ground, surrounded by the gardens - there was something carefree to it, away from the court, without having to worry about his rank or his title or how people were looking at him. Something he’d missed, being indoors all day lately.

The others had moved on to talk about the football games they apparently played, and then some mob fights that Gavin had organised for them to bet on - it was strange to listen to it, their isolated little lifestyle here, their plans to keep building and expanding. And he could see their closeness - Barbara was leaning against Aaron’s side now, his arm resting loosely around her waist, something familiar and comfortable to their closeness. The fond way they both smiled at Chris when he spoke.

Something about it filled him with a kind of longing. This dreamlike castle in the middle of the forest - it seemed a wishful escape from the court, from his marriage with Michael, from the responsibilities of being a king - gave him weird thoughts about running away and living alone, surrounded by nothing but the forest. They were silly things, but they entertained him as he let the voices of the others wash over him. He was absently making plants, small flowers sprouting between his fingers where he toyed with the dirt, but if the others noticed, they didn’t seem to mind.

It was _nice_ for now - calmed him down - he could see why anyone might be happy here.

 

* * *

 

“I thought this was a group meeting,” Ryan observed flatly as he entered the room. “I see no group.”

Geoff, sitting on his bedroll on the floor, glanced up at Jack.

“You couldn’t find the others?”

Jack gave a sheepish shrug.

“Ray went outside. Didn’t want to come. Michael wasn’t in his room and I couldn’t find him.”

He grimaced. It had been strange enough going to fetch Ryan - the other man had been sitting on the floor of his room scribbling away in a journal. Somehow he managed to make _writing_ seem ominous. And being alone with him was… weird. Last time, Jack’d thought he’d gotten through to him, even only a little. But earlier, Ryan had been hostile to him - and now he was just cold.

Still.

Here in their rooms - outside his own kingdom - Ryan was the one who seemed out of place. Outnumbered, even. He folded his arms and glanced between them.

“Perhaps we should wait for the others, then.”

“I doubt Michael and Ray will be getting their shit together any time soon,” Geoff muttered, and Ryan gave a little huff.

“Quite so. Well then.” He folded his hands behind his back. When Jack sat too, he still didn’t move. “What’s the secret meeting about? Plotting against the fool?”

“Ensuring we’re all on the same page,” Jack corrected. “Are you going to sit?”

“I’d rather stand.”

“For fuck’s sake, we’re all in the same situation here,” Geoff said - exasperated more than angry. “If you want a crick in your damn neck that’s your problem, but you just look like an idiot looming over us like that.”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment. Geoff stared right back. Jack watched the two of them, struggling not to roll his eyes.

Finally Ryan plonked himself on the floor. It was a funny sight; the regal, stone-faced king sitting cross-legged on the ground like a child, and Jack struggled to hold in his smile. Ryan shot him a glance.

“You really aren’t having some meeting on how to overthrow Free?” he said.

“No one’s overthrowing anyone,” Jack replied, sternly.

“Still. Were something… unfortunate to happen, we ought to find out where he’s put the crown so one of us can get it before another of his hooligan friends puts it on.”

“Are you planning for something _unfortunate_ to happen?” Geoff said, eyes narrowing.

“Of course not,” Ryan replied, smoothly. “But I like to prepare for every eventuality.”

“Who’s your heir, then?” Jack couldn’t help but ask, curiously. It was hard to imagine who Ryan might trust enough to leave his life’s work to them.

Ryan gave him a long stare, as though trying to determine whether this was all some sort of trick. Jack stared steadily back at him, and after a moment he looked away.

“My captain of the guard,” he replied, finally. “She and Kerry have been advised in the workings of my lab. Were anything to happen to me, together they could keep the Stoneworld running.”

“So there are some people in this world you approve of,” Geoff muttered, and Ryan just shrugged.

“We are not here to gossip. What did you actually want to discuss?”

“We were thinking,” Jack began, “That the dragon looked exactly like a dragon.”

“If there is a point in that sentence somewhere, you are failing to convey it.”

“All the stories we hear about them,” Jack continued patiently, “The legends, the pictures… artwork in old books, statues in the ancient temples of the Plains. That dragon looked exactly like all of them.”

Ryan caught on quickly - his eyes lit up; he leaned forward.

“Which makes it either a spectacular coincidence, or one of two options. At some point, long ago, the people of this land saw a dragon before.”

“Or?” Geoff asked.

“Or,” Ryan replied, “Some dark artist is creating these beasts and deliberately making them look like creatures from those myths.”

“A magician,” Jack said, dumbfounded. “You really think that might be it?”

“No,” Ryan replied. “It would be scientifically unsound. I don’t believe in magic, not beyond the crown gifts. Which is why I’m inclined to think it’s the former option. There were once dragons in this land. And now they’re back. The question is why, and how.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Geoff muttered.

“Questions should be simple,” Ryan replied immediately. “It’s answers that get complicated.”

“Tell us about the first beast, then, o profound one,” Geoff said. “What did you get from it?”

“All I know is that they resemble Endermen,” Ryan said. “Who, incidentally, also have old legends connected to them. There are pictures of them carved into the walls of some of the most ancient caves and canyons of the Stoneworld.”

“Endermen track those with sins on their conscience,” Jack mused. “Hunt them down with a purpose. The beasts seem drawn to the crowns - maybe in a similar way?”

“No, that’s a stretch,” Ryan said dismissively.

“How come everything you say is true and everything we say is a stretch?” Geoff demanded, with such indignation that Jack had to laugh.

“Because what I’m saying actually makes sense,” Ryan replied, and perhaps Jack was imagining it, but he sounded freer, almost playful, rather than cold and arrogant as usual. “You can’t just compare two random things and say they’re related.”

“You called the first beast a minotaur,” Jack cut in - Ryan turned to him, and seemed to shake himself, turning serious again as he nodded. “I’ve heard of that before.”

“Me too,” Geoff said. “Everyone knows the story.”

“Not everyone,” Ryan said abruptly.

Geoff stared at him. “How the fuck have you never-”

“The gods punished a negligent king by turning one of his offspring into a beast that was half-bull, half-man,” Jack cut in, patiently. “It was a monster, killing anything that got in its way in its quest for pleasures - especially gold and jewels. Later, he set it to guarding a labyrinth.”

“Where are these stories set?” Ryan asked with a frown.

“Once upon a time in a land far far away,” Geoff replied, scoffing. “Don’t you understand how stories work? They’re not set anywhere!”

“Forgive me for being ill-versed in _one_ thing,” Ryan snapped. There was something very self-conscious in it, his shoulders tense.

“Geoff’s wrong,” Jack said - Geoff gave a mock-betrayed gasp, clapping a hand to his chest, and Jack rolled his eyes, though he was glad the other man seemed to have regained his good spirits.

“The stories seem to be set in another world because there is no mention of the crowns, or the different biomes,” he explained. “The kings in those tales rule over smaller portions of land without such rigid boundaries. But the stories make mention of landmarks that correspond to places we know of, in the Plains at least - mountain ranges. Rock formations. That salty lake.”

“Oh, I love the salty lake,” Geoff chimed in. “Tastes fuck awful but it’s fun to swim in. Everything floats.”

“I see,” Ryan said, drily.

“In the stories it was formed by the goddess’ tears,” Jack began, but shook himself before he could get off track. “And that’s the other thing that corresponds - the gods. They go by different names in the stories, but they’re the same as ours.”

“Yet no mention of the crowns,” Ryan murmured.

“The kings of those tales had other powers,” Geoff said. “Please tell me you’ve at least heard of the one who could turn everything into gold.”

“That one I do know,” Ryan said. “I heard it when I went to study in the Plains.”

“We taught you something, at least,” Geoff muttered, and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“If there is some truth in these legends, then,” he said, “Are you suggesting that the crowns haven’t always existed?”

“No one’s ever found their origin,” Jack pointed out. “As long as humans remember, they’ve always just _been_ there.”

“Then why aren’t they in the stories, hm?”

“Well what were you taught?” Geoff demanded.

“That the gods gifted the crowns to the first five humans they created at the beginning of time,” Ryan replied. “All this other nonsense about dragons and minotaurs and salty lakes doesn’t come into it. My family had no time for stories. I never read fiction until I went to university. This strange false history is all pretty fucking stupid, in my opinion.”

“It’s not meant to be history. They’re just bedtime stories,” Jack said, a bit defensively.

“What the fuck is a bedtime story?” Ryan asked.

There was a stunned silence. Jack and Geoff exchanged startled glances before Jack bit his lip, suddenly feeling terribly upset on Ryan’s behalf, but not daring to show pity.

“Children’s tales,” he said instead, and sighed. “Either way, it seems there’s a point in history that goes back out of record. If your theory is right, and these beasts did exist in the past, we may find ourselves having to rally armies of historians and scholars instead.”

“We have plenty of those,” Geoff added, a bit smugly. “The finest museums in the land are in the Plains.”

“I will concede to you there,” Ryan said - Geoff blinked, surprised - “I visited them years ago, and even I’ll admit they were grand. Little history is taught in the Stoneworld.”

“What do you teach there, then?” Jack asked, curious.

“To the common folk? Little. My ancestors did not devote much to education. As far as they were concerned, they would just end up working in the mines, or farms, or in construction, anyway. The nobles learn maths and science - geology, mostly. Anyone who wants to study anything else goes to the Plains. But I’m trying to change that,” he added. “I want education levels up. To put the children in schools. Give them the skills they need to do more refined work, developing the golem project with me. That’s years away, but they need to start learning now.”

“A long term investment,” Jack said, and Ryan glanced at him and nodded.

“Exactly. And if we developed golems who could mine, they could do the more dangerous work, with human overseers.”

He was being remarkably open - an edge in his voice too close to excitement, like he hadn’t had anyone to tell all these ideas to before. Considering how closed off he usually was, it was remarkable - although even now, he was still holding back a little, still being careful not to show too much.

“Quite the plan for the future,” Geoff said, but he looked impressed despite himself. Jack nodded - a bit surprised. He’d known for a while that Ryan was improving things during his reign, but he hadn’t realised he was doing quite such a drastic overhaul.

The level of progress by both him and Gavin was quite amazing, actually. And Jack had the sudden thought that if anything, it’d make sense for the two of them to ally. Ryan needed the Wild’s resources, Gavin needed more _people_. Both had exactly what the other lacked.

He doubted either of them would take kindly to that suggestion.

“I hope you can achieve all that,” he said, sincerely. “And that whatever’s going on here, we sort it out so it can’t impede your plans.”

“I am not scared of beasts,” Ryan replied. “I am far more likely to be harmed by some traitor in my own city trying to ‘bump me off,’ as Free so eloquently puts it.”

“Tell me about it,” Geoff muttered suddenly. “That dragon was good for one thing at least. What a waste of eight fucking months dealing with Nutt. And what did he die for? Nothing, in the end. Just a lot of time and resources that could’ve been better spent.”

“Exactly,” Ryan agreed. “Though with any luck your people will see the fact that a dragon appeared out of nowhere and devoured the traitor as a sign from the gods not to question your reign.”

It was his usual wry, almost mocking tone, but the fact that it wasn’t directed at either of them made it seem like a _joke_. It was unexpected, and despite himself Geoff let out a snort - almost a chuckle. Even Jack smiled.

Ryan smiled a bit, too, his lips twitching briefly before he seemed to regain his control.

“Ray fears someone may try the same with him,” he told them. “That’s why he and Michael are continuing this whole marriage business.”

“Poor things,” Jack couldn’t help saying. “They’re obviously unhappy.”

“They brought this on themselves,” Ryan scoffed. “A half-baked plan that they should have ended when they realised it wasn’t working between them.”

“Their alliance makes them strong,” Geoff pointed out.

“But at great personal cost,” Jack cut in, and shook his head. It had been hard, seeing how upset Ray was earlier. How much his friendship with Michael had fallen apart. In the last eight months Jack had hoped that for the two of them, at least, things were working out. It was disheartening to realise they weren’t. “Ray loves Michael, but he doesn’t… it’s a hard situation.”

There was a glum silence. Then Ryan looked at Geoff.

“They will come to you for advice,” he said. His lips twisted mockingly, but it seemed like an automatic response rather than deliberate cruelty. “So prepare yourself. They look up to you.” Another scoff. “For _some_ reason.”

“I’m pretty sure I fucked that up during the games,” Geoff muttered - an odd show of honesty, in front of Ryan, but the other king didn’t take the opportunity to insult him like he once might’ve. He just tilted his head, thoughtfully.

“They are young,” he said. “And new to this. They don’t know what they’re doing. They have advisors, yes, but nothing compares to _this_.”

He pressed a hand to his heart, then touched his temple. Jack looked away, feeling oddly excluded again, unable to even imagine what their bond must feel like.

“We are connected,” Ryan said. “Like it or not. And the fool, too - he is poisoning the bond.”

“What’s that mean?” Geoff asked slowly.

Ryan leaned forward.

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t affect you too,” he said - voice a low, nearly conspiratorial hiss. “Having to feel him every waking second. After what he _did_ \- and you can try to ignore it, to push him out, but he’s always _there_. You’re _all_ always there.”

Geoff stared at him for a long moment. Ryan stared right back - something passing between them that Jack could only guess at. After a moment Geoff looked away.

“Gavin wants to trade,” he said stiffly. “He has leverage, with all the resources of the Wild.”

Ryan snorted.

“He speaks of economics, but he probably doesn’t even know how to count. How can he run his kingdom?”

“His friends might know what they’re doing,” Jack cut in. “Some of them were older. And he can count, by the way,” he added, defensively, and shot both of them a chiding look, something protective rising up in his chest. “So both of you need to stop attacking his upbringing, his intelligence - he’s smarter than you think, or he wouldn’t have taken the crown.”

Ryan sneered - but Geoff just shrugged.

“All three of them are young,” he said, switching back to their original topic. “You’re right, they… they look to us for guidance, especially in situations like this where we all need to find out what’s going on and what the fuck to do about it. As much as they want to pretend that they don’t… it’s true.”

“Exactly,” Ryan said.

Geoff rubbed his hands over his face, sighing tiredly.

“Gods,” he said. “That makes it hard. We are not so old ourselves, after all.”

“Well, some of us aren’t,” Ryan replied immediately, and raised his eyebrows at Geoff pointedly.

Jack couldn’t help his laugh. Geoff bristled indignantly.

“Don’t _you_ laugh, Jack,” he cried. “I’m not old!”

“The war has aged you,” Ryan added, and again it was mocking, but in a way that seemed almost _teasing_ rather than cruel. “Or perhaps it was all the drink.”

Jack laughed harder - the fact that it was coming from Ryan only made it funnier, and Geoff let out a spluttering, offended noise.

“You betray me,” he informed Jack, and turned to Ryan. “Yeah, well, that beard makes _you_ look older!”

Ryan reached up and stroked his chin.

“I think it suits you,” Jack told him, without really thinking about it.

Ryan shrugged. But it was true - he did look good. Here in the Wild, in the flickering firelight - a little out of place, perhaps, surrounded by mossy stone walls and the barren room. But still good, with his ponytail and neat beard and the way his robes fit him - Jack looked away. That was probably not something he should be noticing about Ryan, of all people. He couldn’t help it. He was an impressive man - he had _presence_.

“But honestly,” Geoff spoke up, and Jack shook himself - he glanced at Geoff, but if the other man had noticed his distraction, he gave no sign of it. “My father was fucking ancient when he died. So was Michael’s dad. They had years of experience on us. And I might’ve been king a while - you too - but there’s still so much we’re learning.”

He was facing Jack, but the words clearly addressed Ryan, and Jack couldn’t help but think it was a strange thing for him to say in front of the other king, given their relationship.

“So if they come asking for advice…” Geoff trailed off, shaking his head and throwing his hands up despairingly.

“You know more than you think,” Jack assured him, reaching out and resting a hand on his knee.

Geoff leaned into his touch, but still looked unconvinced.

“Not when it comes to their fucked up relationship,” he replied. “After what happened with Gav, I don’t know how qualified I am to be giving them help.”

“Well I will certainly not be providing love tips to anybody,” Ryan muttered, and Geoff gave a funny sort of snort.

There was an awkward pause, then Ryan rose. They looked up at him - he seemed to close off, suddenly, as though realising where he was and who he was with.

“That fool will summon us to dinner soon,” he said abruptly. “I should go and rest so that I have the strength to deal with his bullshit.”

Jack nodded.

“Good talk, Ryan - my liege,” he corrected himself quickly, remembering Ryan’s last reaction. Something flickered across the other man’s face, and he looked away. “We’ll figure this out.”

Ryan nodded. He left a little too quickly to be natural. Since they got here he’d been less contained, less regal - Jack could only put it down to feeling out of place here in the Wild.

“He’s not so bad,” he said, when the door shut behind him.

Geoff just pulled a face and made a very weird sneering sound. Jack rolled his eyes, elbowing him.

“I know you think it too,” he chided, only to yelp when Geoff pulled him down onto the bedroll with him. The stone floor was hard, but the heather and the bedroll softened it somewhat, and Jack laughed as he curled up by Geoff’s side. The other man hooked an arm around his neck and tugged him closer, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I still hate him,” Geoff declared. “But after what happened in the games, we have a common enemy.”

“Gavin’s not our enemy,” Jack chided softly, and he felt Geoff stiffen against him.

“Jack,” he said, too vulnerably. “Don’t do this. Don’t get close to him again. How can we deal with that? You won’t want to leave him - but you’ll have to. He is bound to the Wild now. It can never be like it was before. He chose this. He knows that. He made that decision. He _did this_.”

Jack bit his lip, and looked away. He didn’t want to argue with Geoff, to upset him - had the disconcerting feeling that it was true. Gavin couldn’t just abandon the Wild and come and live in the Plains with them. Causing even more trouble between them was a bad idea - if he had to pick someone to support, it had to be Geoff.

But he couldn’t help it - he longed to reconnect with Gavin, to try to _fix_ things - he just didn’t know how.

 

* * *

 

Gavin closed his eyes as the zombie assisting him upended a bucket of water over his head. It was lukewarm - hadn’t had time to heat properly - but it was a relief to feel it running through his hair, washing away the dust and grime of travelling through the Stoneworld. He scrubbed at his face and then stared down at his rippling reflection in the washbasin below him. Green eyes stared back.

_The face of a king._

He’d always wondered what it must be like to be royalty - to know your place was above everyone else - to look at your reflection and know that was _you_ , that person everyone else saw and thought of as powerful.

Here he was now, that royalty - but still with his too-big nose, his thin face, those little creases under his eyes.

Beside him, the zombie straightened suddenly, looking over at the door. Gavin spun around, snatching up the knife on the table beside him - but relaxed when he realised it was Michael lingering awkwardly in the doorway.

“Michael,” he said, lowering the knife. “What’s up?”

Michael stirred, jumping a little - he’d been staring at Gavin as if in a daze. Now his cheeks flamed red, suddenly.

“Sorry,” he said. “Fuck. You’re bathing. With the… door open?”

“The zombie didn’t shut it when it went to get water.” Gavin rolled his eyes and sent the creature to the corner of the room. “They’re not that smart.”

“I’ll go-”

“It’s fine. I’ve got pants on. Come in?”

Michael hesitated. He seemed agitated, Gavin realised - brow furrowed, hands fisting by his sides - but Gavin held a hand out, gesturing him into the room - holding his gaze steadily.

Michael looked at him and seemed to calm. His shoulders relaxed, and he walked into the room with slow steps, almost dreamlike. Gavin moved to shut the door behind him and turned to find Michael staring around.

“Nice room,” he commented.

Gavin shrugged. There wasn’t much, but it was nicer than the bare guest rooms. A carved chest in one corner - in the other a fireplace, filling the space with warmth and light. A proper bed frame. Two stools. The furniture had a rough-hewn quality, some of his first dodgy attempts at getting the mobs to build - but there was a certain charm to it.

“It’s mine,” he replied, and Michael turned to watch him as he reached to grab a blanket from a shelf high on the wall.

“Everything’s strange with you,” Michael said abruptly - haltingly, like he wasn’t sure what the words meant himself. “When we’re alone, and in here… it’s weirdly peaceful, I suppose. Feels like we’re in another world. Fuck, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“And here I thought I caused chaos wherever I went.” Gavin stretched to get the blanket and didn’t miss the way Michael’s eyes traced the length of his bare torso, tracking over his ribs - he turned self-consciously, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, flipping it up to dry his hair.

“I know what you all think when you see us,” he said sharply. “Our little band living here in the Wild. But we’re not some sort of freak show for you to stare at.”

“Of course not,” Michael said, sincerely - and Gavin relaxed a little, because _Michael_ didn’t think that way - not Michael, with his funny sweetness, Michael who thought the best of people and didn’t understand treachery. “I wasn’t… you’re thin, that’s all.”

“I eat a lot of vegetables,” Gavin informed him, and Michael laughed a bit.

“Right. Of course.”

“And that active lifestyle helps,” Gavin muttered, going to put his shirt on. “I’m sure you’ve all imagined me spending the last eight months swinging through the trees like a monkey.”

Michael looked so guilty that Gavin took one look at his face and broke down laughing.

“Seriously? Wow. Okay. Way to stereotype, Michael. I’m disappointed.”

“In my defence,” Michael said, “You’re very acrobatic.”

“I will admit, we use the vines to get around sometimes,” Gavin said. He sat on the bed and after a moment Michael moved to join him. As he got close Gavin couldn’t help but stare at him, a fierce fondness in his chest. He had missed Michael. And he’d forgotten just how much he _liked_ him, until they were together again. He did look lovely, here in the firelight, with his curls and his freckles and that rough boyishness to his face.

“What brought you here, then?” he asked softly, and Michael shifted, frowning again.

“Had a fight with Ray,” he admitted. “Kind of. I mean, our relationship is one constant fight nowadays, but he… he’s upset. He thinks I hate him. I don’t. But that’s not enough for him, now - he wants what I can’t give him…”

“He still loves you then,” Gavin said, and Michael threw his hands up.

“I thought he didn’t. The things he says, he way he acts… But now I don’t fucking know and that only makes it harder.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Gavin murmured. “You two were so close, for so long…”

He’d been able to see it, last time, before everything went wrong. Ray and Michael had had an easiness to their interactions that could only come from knowing and trusting the other completely, intimately - more even than Gavin and Dan did. And it had gone both ways, he knew.

“Have you ever imagined that you could love him?” Gavin asked suddenly, more out of curiosity than anything.

“Well, I’ve known him since we were kids,” Michael replied, without even thinking about it. “He’s like a brother - I’ve never thought it anything more.”

“You know love at first sight is only something that happens in plays,” Gavin said, amused. “And it’s not the only sort of love that counts. Your feelings for someone can change over time. Can grow. I think it can be good to think about it for your own peace of mind, if nothing else.”

Michael was silent for a long moment, staring into the distance.

“How did your parents meet?” Gavin asked, abruptly.

Michael gave a startled laugh.

“There’s a question. My mother was in the army. She was stationed at one of the outer villages that had a bandit problem - was in charge of security there. She was a fearsome woman. She wore the skin of a black bear that terrorised the Alps for years until she killed it. After she dealt with the bandits she came to the capital to receive honours and my father met her - he was still a prince at the time. They were friends for a while. When he inherited, they married.”

“That’s an amazing story, but I’m picturing your mum as an _actual_ bear now,” Gavin said, and Michael laughed harder.

“She was quite human, believe me. But that’s different - they didn’t grow up together. But I guess I never did think seriously about him before. When he admitted he... he loved me, all I could think was that I didn’t love him too. That everything would be ruined, now.”

“And there’s no one else? For you, or him?”

Michael shook his head again, but Gavin could practically see his mind running through the possibilities. Ray with someone else - a slight furrow to his brow. _Himself_ with someone else - after a moment his gaze settled on Gavin, and their eyes met, Michael looking at him far too deeply. Gavin wondered what he was thinking, and shifted, self-conscious again. He rose to get wine from the shelf, and his movement jolted Michael back to reality.

“What about you?” he asked. “You over Jack and Geoff yet? Are you and anyone here...?”

He trailed off as Gavin shook his head.

“Aaron and Barb are together. The rest of us, no. We’re all still very close, though.”

“Looks like it. That’s nice - I’m glad you’re not alone in here.” He accepted the cup Gavin passed him with a grin. “So. Achievement City, huh? Who came up with that?”

Gavin felt his cheeks flush.

“I did. Is it silly?”

“No, it suits it. It’s definitely an achievement.” Michael clinked their cups together before leaning forward and touching Gavin’s scarf, which was draped over the end of the bed frame. He looked over at Gavin, curious.

“You all wear this stuff,” he said, and Gavin nodded, setting his own drink aside. He took a deep breath, oddly nervous - but ready to tell someone now.

“We do. Ryan was right, it is creeper skin. It’s an amazingly resilient fabric - we use it for a lot of things. But creepers blow up if anyone attacks them. There’s only one way to take their pelt, and that’s for the Wild king to kill them - they don’t detonate when I do it.”

Michael took this in for a moment.

“So your scarf,” he began, and Gavin’s lips twisted as he reached across and picked up the garment, stroking the fabric gently.

“It’s made of the same. Must’ve been made by one of the Wild rulers.”

“So your parents… one of them was…”

“I don’t know for sure,” Gavin said. “Maybe they just knew the King - or Queen - whoever it was. I was hoping you could help me with that, actually - there are no records here, but the other kings must’ve kept a timeline of when the Wild crown changed hands.”

“They did,” Michael admitted, a touch sheepishly. “But I never paid much attention to my history lessons. Ray probably knows that better than I do.”

“Oh,” Gavin said. He never quite knew what Ray was thinking of him - the other man had mastered both a completely blank expression and a tone of chronic monotony. “Maybe I’ll ask him, then.”

“That’d be quite a stroke of fate, if you’re descended from a previous Wild ruler and then ended up becoming one yourself,” Michael said, grinning - Gavin smiled faintly.

“All of us thieves,” he said. “There’s no bloodline, here.”

“Still.”

“That’s not all I found out.” And here was the part that he wasn’t sure about - didn’t know what Michael might think, how he’d react. But the other man was watching him intently, genuine eagerness in his eyes. Gavin took a deep breath.

“Before… you said I didn’t seem human.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Michael began, quickly, but Gavin held up a hand.

“It’s okay - I know what you meant.” He scoffed out a laugh. “I know _exactly_ what you meant. It’s my eyes, isn’t it?”

“I mean, they weren’t like that last time I saw you,” Michael said. “And I’ve never seen any human eyes that look like that. They glow like an Enderman’s.”

“Or like a cat’s,” Gavin cut in, “In the dark.”

“You and your cats,” Michael scoffed. “But seriously, what happened? Did you eat a mysterious glowing mushroom or something? Because that seems like the sort of thing that might happen here.”

Gavin snorted. “No, I didn’t. I… okay. When I was running to get the crown, when I was alone in the Wild that first time… when I stepped in here, I felt something. Something strange. It wasn’t the dread that everyone else seems to get. Remember how I told you I liked looking at it? How it felt like it was drawing me in? When I finally got here, it felt like…. like when you finally clean out your ears after they’ve gotten all full of wax, y’know?”

“That’s a… fascinating analogy.”

“No, I mean it. You never realise how blocked they were. But it’s a relief, even if you didn’t know it. Suddenly everything’s just _clearer_. Anyway, that happened. And then while I was in here, I encountered a creeper. Came face to bloody face with it. I thought I was dead.”

“You didn’t have the crown yet,” Michael said, and Gavin shook his head.

“No. Just regular old me. It stared straight into my eyes and then just turned around and left. At the time, I thought maybe it mistook my scarf for another creeper. But now that I’m the Wild king, now that I can see into their heads, I know that wasn’t the case.”

“So what, then?” Michael asked slowly.

“Here in the Wild… there are runaways. Some criminals, some not. Some bandits. Some travellers, explorers. And there’s another group.” He swallowed, hard, and said in nearly a whisper, “Witches.”

Michael was very silent.

“You’ve heard of them, right? People say they walk through the Wild, that mobs don’t touch them. That they cast spells and curses on anyone who comes near them. Well, that part’s not true. They’re humans just like us. Most of them left the Wild a while ago - they sensed something had gone wrong here, and I think it was the first beast’s arrival that they felt - they’re nomadic now, travel between the kingdoms. But I encountered one, while I was going around tracking people down to invite them to join my community. Kdin. She was on her own - gathering supplies, preparing to leave too. As soon as she saw me, she knew.” He gestured at his face. “Green eyes. Glowing, like hers.”

“What are you saying, Gavin?” Michael asked quietly.

“Witches are humans who were born in the Wild, or raised here when they were very young. There’s magic in the air here, pure magic - that’s why it makes most people feel so strange, why they don’t like it here. It doesn’t do anything most of the time, but it respawns the mobs when they die and it’s what made the trees grow so big. And if someone’s pregnant in here, or if there’s a very young child - they’re susceptible, then. The magic gets all in them. I was away for so long that I never even realised that I belonged here. But once I got back, it started affecting me. My eyes started doing this. If I make you feel weird when I get close to you, that’s why. It’s gotten all soaked up in me. Michael, I’m like a magic sponge, Michael.”

Michael stared at him, eyes wide. Then he burst out laughing.

“What?” Gavin cried indignantly. “What’s funny about that?”

“Sorry, just… the way you said it. A fucking _magic sponge_. That’s hysterical.”

“Well, how else would you put it?”

“No, it makes sense. Okay. Sorry.” He recovered himself, sitting up, but he was grinning, and Gavin, relieved, smiled back. “So you’re a witch, then.”

Gavin nodded. “Technically. So that’s all I know, so far. That my mum was here in the Wild while carrying me. That I was born here. That the Wild ruler knew about me. And then… for some reason, my parents left and abandoned me in the Plains. My current theory is that they were witches too.”

“Shit. Okay.” Michael stared at him and Gavin stared back, waiting for some judgment - but Michael just tilted his head after a moment.

“Can you use magic?” he asked.

“No,” Gavin replied. “And witches can’t, either - not the way you’re thinking. They can cast enchantments, that’s all - use themselves as a channel to imbue weapons or objects with the Wild’s magic. I never learned, and I’m probably too old to now. But like I said, when I’m here in the Wild - everything’s clearer. I’m sharper, my reactions are faster - I think that’s why I was able to kill the first beast on my own.”

“It makes a lot of sense,” Michael said then. “There’s something about you now that wasn’t there before. If it’s magic you absorbed by coming back here, it explains everything.”

“Do you find it weird?” Gavin couldn’t help asking. “People hate witches, you know. They tell awful stories about them, and to be honest it’s no wonder - they’re reclusive, they hate outsiders, and if anyone tries to get near them sometimes they do attack. But people say that they bring bad luck.”

“I mean,” Michael said, “When it comes to you, Ryan might agree.”

It was clearly a joke, but Gavin only let out a little huff.

“He called me one,” he said. “After I took the crown. He said I was a curse. And that I’d ruined all of you.”

“That’s pretty fucking overdramatic,” Michael said, and pulled such a strange face that Gavin couldn’t help but laugh - something too relieved in it, glad that Michael had been so accepting. It made it easier for him to accept, too.

Perhaps some people might think it wasn’t much of a revelation. But to finally have a solid answer about his birth, to finally just know _something_ , had been an emotionally overwhelming experience at the time. Not to mention, he’d grown up around superstitious circus folk, and the strict priestesses who governed the orphanages of the Plains. All people who had repeatedly drilled the idea into his head of witches as terrifying supernatural beings who made the grass under their feet die as they walked, who poisoned wells with a touch, who communed with wicked spirits. So, you know. That had been a fun day, finding out that he was apparently one of those.

“Anyway,” he said. “That’s what I have so far. Because it was so long ago - twenty five years, give or take, I don’t know my exact age - any evidence or clues have sort of disappeared. But Kdin agreed to ask around the other witches for me, in case any of them remember anything. Thing is, she left for the Plains and hasn’t come back yet. I don’t know when she’ll return.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Michael assured him, and Gavin smiled.

“One thing is very clear,” he said. “The Wild is where I belong. It seeped into my bones before I was even born. I suppose it feels like home, here, but at the same time… there are things that shape us, things that you can’t just forget. I had a home in the Plains too, with Jack and Geoff. That was important to me. That’s part of what made me _me_. So I don’t know where I fit in any more. I… I guess I hoped for reconciliation with them, when you called this meeting. But after changes like this happen… we can never get back to how things used to be. We can only try and shape them into something new.”

Michael nodded, a sad look in his eyes, the words clearly hitting home.

“I hope that’s true,” he said softly. “And I hope these new things don’t mean we lose those we care about.”

Gavin smiled at him, but he didn’t like the vulnerable edge in Michael’s voice - didn’t like how his shoulders hunched. People like Michael should never be sad, he thought. It wasn’t fair. He’d never hurt anyone - not deliberately, anyway.

It was at that moment that he resolved to help the two of them somehow. Ray and Michael probably didn’t need his meddling, but maybe he could at least get them to talk to each other. Maybe he could find out where Ray’s head was at - try and help Michael figure out what he was feeling - someone needed to push them to _do_ something, and maybe they just needed an outsider to mediate all this.

His own actions had made him lose what he had with Geoff and Jack. And right now, he didn’t know if he could fix that. But he could at least try and get these other two to sort themselves out.

Yes - he’d help them. He’d try, at least.

He shook himself, and jumped up.

“Come on!” he said, and grabbed Michael’s hands, tugging him up off the bed. “Time to go to dinner.”

Michael laughed, letting Gavin pull him up. The movement brought them close together, and he heard Michael’s sharp little hitch of breath as his face came near Gavin’s - as they stared into each other’s eyes, deep brown meeting unnatural green.

“Thanks for listening,” Gavin said abruptly. “The… the others here were there when I found out all this. But I haven’t told anyone else, and I… I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s all good,” Michael replied, and gave a small smile. “Thanks for listening as well. It’s… hard, with Ray. With no one else to talk to.”

“Any time,” Gavin said. He dropped Michael’s hands but the other man didn’t step back, just reached up and adjusted Gavin’s scarf to sit more neatly around his throat before putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing fanart, thank you so much! <3
> 
> [Crowned Souls graphic/aesthetic](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146968219274/aureate-aubade-after-seeing-all-the-beautiful) by aureate-aubade
> 
> [King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/146776783409/doodlematte-the-wild-king-paused-before-the) by doodlematte


	5. Chapter 5

They left at dawn.

Mornings in the Wild were frigid and cold. Dark, too, the sunlight not yet strong enough to seep through the canopy. An eerie white mist hung over everything, making it hard to see.

Gavin seemed to know where he was going, though. He led the party on his giant spider, the others trailing behind - a strange, mismatched procession of horses, golems and monsters, seeming too-loud in the still silence of the morning as they picked their way through the forest.

Ryan rode near the back of the party, his golems bringing up the rear. He had to concentrate hard - there were frequent low-hanging branches and steep inclines in the terrain - but after a time, Ray dropped back next to him.

“There are no monsters to fear, now,” he murmured, when Ryan looked over at him. “But something still feels wrong about this place.”

“Something bad happened here,” Ryan replied, grimly. “No one knows what. But it wiped out an entire civilisation. There are ghosts on this ground - if you believe in such things.”

Ray looked away, his shoulders hunched up, seeming too small atop his horse. He looked tired. Ryan doubted any of them had slept well in their subpar lodgings. Dinner had been awkward, too - Gavin’s people keeping to themselves, eating in a group together and leaving the other kings to sit in a rather strained silence. They certainly weren’t the peak of hospitality, and there had been a very uncomfortable moment when Gavin started making pointed comments about how he wasn’t a jester anymore, so there would be no entertainment this evening, unless one of the others wanted to get up and dance. To be fair, Ryan had provoked that one by addressing him as ‘fool’ in front of his people.

He didn’t care. After what Gavin had done to him, respect was the last thing he’d earned from Ryan.

“He doesn’t believe in the gods,” Ray said, abruptly - Ryan looked over to find him watching Gavin, who was still leading the group but had brought his horrid steed closer to Michael and was leaning in, the two of them discussing something in hushed tones. There was a friendliness to it that made Ryan’s stomach twist. So one of them had forgiven the thief, at least.

Ray’s face was unreadable as he stared at them.

“I heard his people talking about it,” he continued. “He’s given up all religion.”

“Not surprising,” Ryan replied, curtly. “Clearly he has gone completely feral and given up any system of belief entirely - including that of justice, or law, or government. It is ridiculous behaviour unfitting of a king. It reflects no understanding of personal responsibility. He values nothing - truth, or trust, or honour. Nothing but his own _selfish_ needs. Look at them together - Michael is too simple to understand just how dangerous he is. But you don’t need to worry. There’s nothing between them. I don’t think the fool’s even capable of love.”

Ray was giving him a very strange look. After a moment, he laughed.

“Do you _enjoy_ just saying random ominous things all the time?”

“What?” Ryan asked, twisting to look at him.

“Everyone sees you as terrifying and calculating. But sometimes I feel like everything you do is just for dramatic effect.” Ray shook his head, scoffing, and Ryan couldn’t help the way his own lips twitched.

Honestly, the words had spilled out of his mouth without him even giving them much thought - he’d felt vaguely poetic, like he was reciting some speech from a play, some drama. Their cold and misty surroundings had certainly set the scene, made him feel very epic. He knew Gavin had loved Jack and Geoff. Then again, he had betrayed them like he betrayed all of them. But Ryan had mostly said it just for the sake of being cruel.

Yet again, Ray surprised him with his nonchalant reaction. But Ryan quickly looked down, forcing his smile away.

He was alarmed by what had happened with Geoff and Jack the other day - and he’d deliberately ridden at the back of the party to avoid them. He didn’t want to open up to them - hadn’t meant to start joking, start being _friendly_. But his resolve to remain hard and aloof from all the other kings was crumbling faster than he liked to admit. It was bad enough that Gavin was making him so angry when all he wanted was to keep his distance - even worse was how he’d let himself get _comfortable_ with the other two.

Jack was a big part of the problem. The other man made something in him too weak, made him want to open up. The care he showed, the concern - it was too genuine. And it wasn’t just towards Ryan - he seemed to care for Ray, too, and Michael, and for _Gavin_ , still. Worst of all was how Ryan found himself believing the other man was sincere. It almost made him want to trust him.

No. No, no, no - he couldn’t let himself get close. Not again.

And Ray, Ray too - he’d liked the other man during the games, despite himself. And even now, the way he reacted to what Ryan said and did, even when Ryan was deliberately trying to put him off…

It was dangerous.

Of everyone, Michael was probably the safest for him to be around. They had no personal history, but the other man disliked him enough to ignore him and not try to, gods forbid, _get to know him_. But the other man seemed quite occupied with Gavin.

And he couldn’t just ignore Ray. Found that he didn’t _want_ to. The other man’s situation with Michael was unfortunate, but they’d brought it on themselves and Ryan shouldn’t bother sympathising - but he couldn’t _help_ it. Ray had never done anything to him. Had never pried, never made any attempts to try and get Ryan to share more than he was willing to. And there was something about the younger king that reminded him of himself when he’d first taken the crown - thrust into a position of power, suddenly having to rule, unsure who to look up to or what he was doing…

And he could see, too, how Ray had modelled himself on _him_ \- on Ryan’s careful, disciplined leadership and emphasis on control - just as Michael had modelled himself on Geoff’s freer informality. Gavin, of course, was just doing who the fuck knew what.

He’d told Geoff the others would look up to him - yet Ray kept seeking _him_ out, and Ryan was starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that the younger man wanted a mentor. Which, okay, fuck no, _help_.

He couldn’t provide that. He should push him away, he _should_ \- no good could come of this.

Ray was still watching him expectantly. Luckily, before he had to think of a reply, Gavin called out to them from the front of the group.

“Stop here!”

They drew to a halt. Ryan realised that they’d entered a thicker part of the jungle. The foliage around them was denser, the trees seeming to close in around them like a cage. It was darker here - huge patches of the forest were cast in shadow, but little pinpricks of sunlight filtered in through the tiny gaps between the leaves. The oppressive, humid feeling he remembered from previous trips to the Wild was back.

“We’re headed deeper in,” Gavin called out. “The horses can’t come further than this. The terrain’s too difficult. We can leave them here with a few mobs - they’ll take care of them. There’s a stream nearby they can drink from.”

“You trust the mobs to care for them?” Geoff demanded, and Gavin turned to him.

“Yes,” he replied simply. “If I order them to, they’ll keep them fed and watered and protect them from anything that might come along. I suppose Ryan can leave a golem here too, if you’re so concerned.”

“I will,” Ryan said sharply, getting off his horse and passing the reins to one of his own golems, leaning in to mutter instructions to it to take care of things. By the time he turned back to the others they were waiting to leave, their own horses left in the care of three of Gavin’s draugr.

“Shall we, then?” Gavin asked, swinging out a hand in the direction they were going - down an incredibly steep hill that seemed to lead into some sort of ravine.

Ryan nodded, and Gavin turned and jumped over the edge, digging his heels in and skidding nimbly down the slope. The others picked their way rather more carefully - Jack and Geoff holding onto each other for balance. Michael seemed fine - he moved slowly, but with sure steps, and had a large branch in hand that he used as a makeshift staff to ground himself. Ryan was holding the arm of one of his golems for balance - but a moment later he looked over at Ray and found him struggling.

“Fuck,” he muttered - and sighed before sending a golem over to help him. Ray shot him a surprised glance - then a small smile, and Ryan just looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.

It was dark at the bottom of the ravine, and Gavin was waiting, holding a flaming torch. With half a dozen draugr and two Endermen at his back, he looked like some king of the dead standing in the pits of hell.

“Don’t worry,” he said, as they finally joined him and he passed Michael a torch, then Jack. “It’s dark here, but it opens up more where the temples are.”

“Something smells fucking awful,” Geoff muttered, looking around.

“Dead carcasses, probably,” Gavin replied cheerfully. “The mobs killed people and animals down here before I came along to control them.”

“Lovely,” Geoff announced, and Gavin looked at him a moment longer before turning away, brandishing his flaming torch.

“Onward, then!” he cried, and led them into the dark.

If it had been unnerving passing through the jungle above, down here in the depths of the forest floor it was even worse. The ground was covered with stagnant, damp leaves - a mess of decomposing mulch and gods knew what else that squelched underfoot. It was uneven with roots and stones that it had one or the other of them stumbling every few moments, and the trees were so close together that it was a pain to pick a path through them. Gavin still seemed to know where he was going, though he’d sent a few draugr ahead and paused now and then to pore over a map, Michael looking over his shoulder.

Eventually their route came to a halt. An enormous, fallen tree blocked their path - Ryan was constantly in awe of the foliage here, how prehistorically large it was - even slumped over, the tree trunk was as wide as a house and had to be at least a dozen feet tall. Faintly, over the top of it, he could see a glimmer of light.

“Beyond here it’s clearer,” Gavin announced.

“Well how the fuck are we meant to get over it?” Geoff demanded. His face was smudged with grime and sweat - all of them were breathing heavily after this hike in the jungle’s humid underbelly.

“We will climb, of course,” Gavin said. “There are plenty of handholds.”

He reached out and tugged at one of the thick tendrils of vines that clung to the trunk’s surface. It held fast - then again, Gavin was a slip of a thing. It might hold his weight but Ryan wasn’t sure if it could hold a golem’s. Still - he’d designed this latest model to be more agile. They should be able to find their way over.

“Um,” Ray said, uncertainly. Gavin glanced over at him.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured him, and pulled a coil of rope from his belt. “Tie yourself to someone else if you’re worried. Once we’re over this it’s a clear route to the temples. Last hurdle, eh, boys?”

“Woo hoo,” Michael said flatly, but grinned at Gavin when he looked over at him. “You lead the way, then, Gav - find a path for the rest of us.”

Gavin nodded, turning and surveying the great tree, before moving nimbly forward and beginning to climb. Ryan watched him for a few moments, taking note of the hand and footholds he seemed to find - watching the muscles in his lean arms flex as he hauled himself up using the vines, tracing a path up the wooden log.

“Well fuck me,” Ray muttered next to him, and Ryan turned to him.

“A golem can carry you on its back,” he suggested - but Ryan’s eyes were on Michael, who was following determinedly in Gavin’s path. He didn’t seem to be having much trouble - was clearly so strong that he could cling easily to any nook or crevice in the wood, hauling himself nimbly up. The two of them were certainly a sight, swinging themselves easily up the log’s surface - Gavin’s lean speed, Michael’s raw strength - after a moment Ray shook his head determinedly.

“I’m fine,” he replied, and started forward.

“You have nothing to prove to him,” Ryan called out. He wasn’t sure why. Ray froze for a moment, before ignoring the comment and continuing on.

A little distance away, the draugr and Endermen were picking their own path up the surface of the obstacle. Jack and Geoff had tied themselves together and were following them carefully - Geoff leading the way and reaching down to help Jack every now and then. After watching them for a moment, Ryan moved forward and began his own ascent.

Gavin was right. It wasn’t hard to climb at all - there were plenty of handholds, the rough surface of the trunk had plenty of grip, and Ryan was fit and agile enough to make easy work of it. He could hear the golems below him, and wasn’t afraid of falling. He knew if he did, one of them would catch him.

Gavin and Michael were pulling away up ahead, over halfway there by now - but Ray, a little way beside him, seemed to be struggling. Before long Ryan had overtaken him, and he looked back down to find that the other man had stopped moving and was just clinging to the side of the tree, unsure where to go next.

Ryan hesitated, then sighed.

“There’s a ledge just up here,” he called out, gesturing to a ridge in the bark just between them. He tried to make it sound smug, so it wouldn’t look like he was offering help - Ray glanced up at him, seeming surprised.

“This is the point where I should let it be known how much I hate both the outdoors and physical activity,” he shouted back.

He sounded so put out by the whole situation that Ryan couldn’t help his scoff - perhaps a little too close to laughter. Above them, Michael paused and twisted to look down at them over his shoulder.

Ray noticed him, and glanced up, meeting his eyes for a moment. Then his gaze slowly turned to Gavin, up ahead and still climbing. Finally he turned to Ryan again and asked, quite deliberately, “Gimme a hand up?”

Ryan faltered.

He knew he shouldn’t get involved - shouldn’t become a part of their drama - but Gavin had noticed as well, and stopped to watch, his green eyes too sharp, seeing too much. Suddenly Ryan couldn’t stand it. It was spite on his part, more than anything, that had him reaching down and offering Ray a hand - pulling him up to the ledge next to him and then steadying him with an arm around his waist when he slipped. Ray grabbed his arm, clutching his sleeve until he had his balance back, and Ryan couldn’t help the way he stiffened a little at the close contact.

“Thanks,” Ray said, and Ryan pulled away from him slowly. He just nodded before glancing up to find Michael watching them with his jaw clenched.

Who knew what was going through his head? If Michael didn’t love Ray, he shouldn’t care - right? But friendship was as tricky a thing as love, and the situation between them was messier than Ryan liked to think about. Ray himself didn’t seem particularly happy or smug either, despite whatever it was he’d been trying to achieve just then, and after a moment he turned away and kept climbing on his own. Ryan picked a different route up, and they continued on in silence.

 

* * *

 

It was, indeed, much clearer on the other side of the fallen tree. After trekking uphill through a little more thick forest, they emerged onto what seemed to have once been a road, though over the years it had grown over with uncommonly large weeds and roots.

Still. It was a much more open space, the trees further apart and the sunlight spilling through from the clear sky above. It was brighter - but colder, now that they weren’t closed in under the canopy, a chilly breeze blowing around them. Still, they were all tired and sweaty from all the climbing around and travelling on foot for the last several hours. Even Gavin seemed to have exerted himself, dragging his feet a little as he walked - Michael was the only one who seemed to be fine, and after a time they paused for a short water break, sitting on a large log by the side of the trail in awkward silence for about twenty minutes before moving on.

In this deep, northern part of the Wild, the funny tingling feeling that seemed to linger in the air got worse. It was disconcerting - like a constant shiver running down one’s spine, making them feel like they were being watched.

Not to mention, the previous parts of the Wild they’d been in had been mostly jungle. Here, they passed by more and more ruins - signs of what had once been human civilisation around them. The road they walked on was clearly man made, patchy paving stones in places between all the weeds, and now and then they walked past chunks of rubble, buildings that looked like they’d been knocked down and partially wiped away. Ryan could see the others staring around, looking steadily more uncomfortable, but no one said anything.

It was when they passed the blackened remains of a skeleton, leaning against a tree by the side of the road, that Michael let out a disgusted breath.

“What happened here?” he blurted out - addressing all of them. “What happened to wipe out an entire kingdom, to make it like - like _this_? It’s gotta have been something contained, because the Stoneworld was completely unaffected.”

“No one knows,” Ryan replied. “It was so long ago that no one’s ever found records of it. The Stoneworld’s the only place close enough that they might’ve seen or heard what happened. But there’s _nothing_ \- I guess it was just too long ago.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Gavin was walking in front of them all, not bothering to look back, but Ryan could tell he was listening.

“Think it was something to do with these beasts?” Ray piped up finally. “Maybe they came in the past and destroyed everything here. And now they’re back to do it again.”

“They’d better not be,” Gavin called out, still without turning. “Nothing better knock down my bloody castle after I just rebuilt it all!”

“For so long the mobs made the Wild too dangerous to explore,” Jack cut in. “Now that Gavin’s in charge… maybe we can finally investigate properly.”

Gavin lifted up an arm, giving them all a thumbs up, and Michael rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh - Ray glanced at him sidelong, but made no comment.

They kept going. Eventually the road opened up into a clearing and a more intact set of ruins - a crumbling, round tower that looked like it had once been a keep of some sort. Compared to the smaller bits of rubble they’d passed, it was nearly a whole building - empty, when they headed inside, but with solid walls and a mostly intact roof. There was something uncomfortable about that - something about the oppressive darkness and silence that made it feel like a ghost town, like someone should _be there_ \- a wrongness to how uninhabited the whole place was. The interior was covered in creeping moss and a faintly alarming sort of musty smell, and when they entered an enormous flock of birds took off out of the rotting rafters with a cacophony of loud squawks. A shiver ran down Ryan’s spine that he struggled to suppress.

Gavin appeared unfazed.

“Ooh, we’d better not camp in here,” he declared, gazing up into the ceiling of the tower and pulling a face. “They’ll shit all over our heads.”

“Set up tents outside?” Michael suggested, and Gavin nodded, turning to the rest of them.

“That might be better. At least we can come in here if it storms.” He tilted his head, looking around at them all. “A good enough spot for your royal highnesses?”

“Fine,” Geoff replied gruffly, looking around. “Where are the temples?”

“Give me a bloody second. Let’s get set up, rest a little, then we’ll head out,” Gavin said. Geoff looked impatient - but Jack pressed his arm, giving him a pointed look, and he relented.

It was better outside - the awful ruins next to them still seemed to emanate some unsettling vibe, but in the fresh air everyone was more relaxed.

The others went to sit down, opening their backs and getting some food out, while Gavin and Ryan were left to order the golems and mobs about. Before long there was a flurry of movement in the clearing as the beings gathered firewood, put up tents, and set a perimeter watch. Gavin commanding his mobs was certainly something to watch - he directed them with pointed looks and fluid movements, obviously well-practiced by now.

Once they had a campsite up and roaring, Gavin ushered them over to a slab of rock that he’d spread his map out on. They gathered around it, Ryan standing back a little, while Michael hovered close to Gavin - practically over his shoulder. Geoff stood on the Wild king’s other side - Ryan was briefly surprised, then realised he’d positioned himself carefully to be between Gavin and Jack.

If Gavin noticed, he made no comment, focused on the map.

“There are two temples near here, according to the Endermen I sent out to explore,” he said. “They’re mostly intact. It’s this area the dragon came from. I suggest we split up to save time and explore both at once…” he trailed off, looking up at the sky, and gave a decisive nod. “We have plenty of daylight left. Unless you think it’s better that we all stick together?”

“Let’s split up,” Geoff said immediately.

Gavin glanced at him and gave a tight smile.

“As you wish. Someone should stay here at the campsite. If anything happens, we need to be able to send a message back to the others quickly. Jack, maybe you can do that.”

Ryan could see why - of all of them, Jack didn’t have a gift, and was the most in need of some sort of protection. Ryan had never seen the other man use a sword, and wasn’t sure how well he could fight - but Geoff was nodding too, now.

“Good idea,” he said, giving Jack a pointed look.

Jack didn’t look impressed, but he rolled his eyes.

“I suppose I can’t argue with _two_ kings,” he said - but Geoff gave him another look and after a moment he nodded back.

Ryan glanced between the two of them. He was hit with the sudden suspicion that Geoff had brought the crown here and that Jack had it, now, in his bag. After all, the other man was his heir, and if anything happened he’d want him to inherit as soon as possible. He couldn’t confirm it, but the way they were acting now was certainly raising flags.

“Michael,” Geoff began, “You should come with me.”

“No,” Gavin cut in immediately. “Michael will be with me.”

Geoff scowled at him - Michael was left to glance awkwardly between them, then after a moment looked over at Ray, who was looking stone-faced at Gavin. After a moment, Ray noticed Michal staring, and his brows furrowed a little before he turned to Geoff.

“I could go with you,” he said, but Gavin shook his head again.

“No,” he said, “Ray will come with me too!”

Ray and Michael both turned to him, surprised. Gavin beamed away, his face revealing nothing.

“And why is this?” Ryan asked.

“From what I know of the temples, I think the three of us,” he said, gesturing between himself and the other two, “Will come in handy if we all go together. You two can explore this temple that’s closer, and we’ll go to the one further out because I know the Wild better. I’m not about to go with either of you,” he added, shooting Ryan and Geoff a pointed look. “Because, you know, you hate me and it’ll be awkward. So I’ll take Michael and Ray with me, and you two can go together!”

Jack looked very pained. He shot Geoff a pleading look. Ryan wasn’t sure what he was expecting - for Geoff to apologise to Gavin, embrace him, assure him he _didn’t_ hate him? Like that was going to happen. Geoff just stared at him before gesturing at Ryan.

“And you think leaving me with _him_ is a good idea?” he demanded.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, not even offended - it was pretty clear to everyone that they didn’t get along.

Gavin just shrugged.

“I thought we were all putting aside our differences to sort this shit out,” he said. And then, a sneer in it, “Why? Would you rather go with _me_ , Geoffrey?”

Jack gave Geoff another pleading look, not even disguising it - but Geoff didn’t so much as glance back at him.

“No,” he shot back. “I’d take him over you _any_ day.”

Gavin screwed up his face at him, and Geoff sneered back.

“I’d be flattered,” Ryan said, “But that’s really not saying much.”

Gavin shrugged and picked the map up.

“We all good with this?” he asked, looking around at them all. “Michael? Ray?”

The two of them exchanged a glance, but whatever passed between them, Ryan couldn’t work it out.

“Oh yes,” Michael said finally. “No problems here.”

“Good, then,” Gavin declared. “Here’s the map, then - there’s a clear path to your temple. I know the way to mine.”

He stepped towards Ryan and held the rolled-up map out to him - Ryan stiffened automatically when he got close, but Gavin held his gaze steadily, and after a moment Ryan snatched it, so roughly that Gavin pulled his hand back with a wince.

“Watch it,” he said sharply. “You nearly gave me a bloody papercut. You should all get water,” he added, turning to the rest of them. “You’ll need it in here. And rope, bandages - anything you think you might need.”

They split apart, Ryan heading to his tent to reorganise his bag. He felt a funny, tight nervousness deep in his stomach at the thought of spending time alone with Geoff - with any of the others. He felt out of place here in the wilderness, out of the controlled environment of his stone fortress where he saw all, knew all, was clearly in command. Not to mention the memories this all kept bringing up of the games and all that had happened. But he swallowed it down, forcing himself to focus on the mission and what they were investigating here. As long as he thought about nothing but pursuing their goal, they could get this over with and all part ways again.

When he emerged it was to find Jack fussing over Geoff a little way away. Geoff was rolling his eyes, but there was an unbearable fondness on his face. It was funny to see them so openly together - they’d clearly loved each other when he saw them during the games, but now they weren’t bothering to hide it, and when he watched Geoff reach up and clasp Jack’s face in his hands, pulling him in for a kiss, he looked away, feeling awkward and isolated suddenly.

“If you’re quite ready,” he snapped, striding up to them - Geoff looked up at him, a lingering smile still on his face from where he’d been gazing at Jack when they pulled apart. “We’ll bring two golems.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Geoff said. Once, Ryan knew, he’d’ve been suspicious of Ryan killing him when they were off on their own. But there was no hesitation in his voice now - it seemed they’d been forced into unity.

And Ryan himself couldn’t quite bring himself to muster up the hatred for the other man he’d felt before. Perhaps he was just tired. His gaze swept over Geoff now, to the sword on his belt - the other man had been fighting a war for eight months now. Any doubts Ryan had about his abilities after his mediocre performance in the games were gone.

“The others heading off, too?” Jack asked, and Ryan jerked himself back to attention. He looked around the clearing and found Michael and Gavin standing together, waiting for Ray - a moment later he emerged from his tent and moved to join them. It was chilly here, with autumn settling over them, and he was wearing a cloak similar to Michael’s - some sort of mountain cat’s pelt, it looked like.

They made a funny trio, the three young kings standing together - bear, cat and creeper. After a moment Michael looked up and saw them, and lifted a hand to wave them off. Geoff waved back and Michael turned and walked off - Gavin bouncing along next to him, Ray trailing behind.

“Be careful,” Jack said, as Geoff turned to leave as well.

“You too,” Geoff said, looking suddenly concerned. “You alright here on your own?”

“The golems will protect him if anything happens,” Ryan said curtly. He’d given them orders to.

He saw Jack shoot him a small smile, and turned away, not meeting his gaze. The other man stepped back, and Ryan and Geoff walked down a trail leading out of the clearing, following the map as they headed off into the jungle.

 

* * *

 

Ray fucking hated the Wild.

He liked being outside well enough - after all, given his gift, he should be used to ‘communing with nature’ or what fucking ever. Being out in the palace gardens was fine - it was nice making plants, breathing in the smell of flowers, feeling the dirt between his toes. The desert was so dry and barren that to walk through the parts that the kings had made fertile, had covered in grass and flowers and trees, was wonderful.

But _this_ \- trudging through the difficult terrain, his boots getting caught on sticks and stones constantly, the cold wind, the tangled jungle and the discomforting tingling feeling of the Wild… that was different to the contained gardens, or his own little flower patch. Too much exercise. Too much _awkwardness_ as they travelled in silence.

Actually, with Gavin there as a buffer it was somehow easier to be around Michael. He’d thought it’d be worse when Gavin told them both to come - that they’d start fighting immediately, or there’d be a horrible tension.

But there wasn’t - just silence, faintly uncomfortable, but not _unbearable_. Maybe it was being out of the confines of the palace, or the fact that someone else was there with them - but Ray felt less pressured to engage with Michael, to keep up appearances. Could just keep his head down and trudge along, focusing on one step after the other.

Michael and Gavin weren’t even talking to each other. Not that Ray cared. Ha ha ha. No, really. Michael could do what he wanted - and they certainly seemed to be getting on swimmingly! Then again, they always had - Ray’d never forgotten how close Gavin had gotten to him, so easily, last time. Apparently being stabbed in the back wasn’t enough to put Michael off.

Fair fucking enough. Gavin was attractive - objectively speaking - and funny. Quick witted, or whatever. Michael probably liked that, Ray thought cruelly, because he wasn’t himself. And now  Gavin was a king like the rest of them, on equal standing - he had power, and land, and _ambition_ , clearly. He’d killed the beast single handedly. The way he was always jumping around so nimbly, like some fucking weird little elf - was that the sort of thing Michael was into, huh?

Honestly, Ray had never been able to imagine who his friend would end up with - apart from, y’know, fantasising about it being _himself_. But Michael seemed to get on with everyone - he was close with all his warriors, but had never brought up relationships.

But with Gavin it was different. Maybe because the other man was so completely unlike anyone they’d met before. There was a tension there.

Still, Ray thought, as he stared at the other man walking up ahead of him. He couldn’t bring himself to hate Gavin. Oh, he had before, when the other man grabbed Michael’s attention so easily in a way Ray hadn’t been able to - but now he was just like, _well fuck me, I’ve got no chance with Michael anyway._

Did it hurt to see them getting on so well? Of course.

But despite his friendliness, Ray could see Gavin was distracted - wrapped up in his own world, with his crown and his kingdom and whatever was going on with Geoff and Jack. And hadn’t he invited Ray along, too? It wasn’t like he was trying to get Michael alone, to rub it in or make a move.

Ray had been walking at the back of their party, but now the trail they were following narrowed and it began to be covered by trees that had fallen across the way. It looked like they’d been knocked over by a storm - they were thinner trees, smaller, not like the enormous one that’d blocked their way before, and Michael moved up ahead and started hauling them out of the way. Gavin dropped back next to Ray, who glanced at him, a bit surprised.

“How’ve you been?” Gavin asked. He kept his voice so low that he was clearly trying to avoid Michael hearing them. Ray raised an eyebrow, unsure what was going on - and just a bit suspicious.

“Everything is terrible,” he replied flatly.

Gavin laughed briefly, but tilted his head, looking at Ray with his sharp eyes.

“I know you’re not joking, though,” he said, and glanced over at Michael - he had his cloak pushed back, his sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his arms straining as he hauled one of the trees up and threw it out of the way with a _crash_. Ray followed his gaze. When he turned back to Gavin, the other man was looking at him, face soft and sympathetic.

“It sucks,” Gavin said. “I’m sorry. It sucks with Geoff and Jack, too.”

“You did that yourself,” Ray replied curtly. The pity was making him uncomfortable. “You chose the crown over them.”

“Not the crown,” Gavin said, sharply. “It was never about the crown itself. It was never about becoming _king_. It was about what it could give me - answers. Independence. I chose me over them, but I never meant it to be selfish, you know? I was just… taking care of myself, for once. After so long giving things up for the others. Like I said to you, that night… sometimes you have to do things for yourself.”

Ray looked away. He thought of that night, now and then - the storm. Gavin, staring out at the Wild. Himself oblivious, with no idea just what Gavin was planning, how everything was about to change.

“Dan told me what happened during the archery,” Gavin piped up, a bit uncertainly.

“Do you have a fucking point?” Ray snapped, glaring at him.

Gavin stared calmly back.

“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you into ruining Michael’s chances,” he said. “That wasn’t part of my plan. I was talking about myself. But… did you do it because of what I told you?”

Ray grit his teeth, irritated by the nosiness - and, below that, scared of how it was forcing him to _think_. About what he’d done. About why.

But Gavin was waiting expectantly, and after a moment Ray shook his head.

“No,” he replied grudgingly. “Not... not completely.”

Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure _why_ he’d done it, except that it had been impulsive and in the moment, in the moment he’d just wanted to _show_ them all that he was worth something too. Perhaps too much like Gavin after all.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he continued. “The games meant nothing in the end.”

“Nothing and everything,” Gavin murmured. He was staring up ahead, now - at Michael, and the twisting road of the Wild ahead of them. “A lot’s changed these last eight months… and yet not enough. I wish… I thought… it’s been a long time. But there are things we can’t get over.” He cast Ray a little sidelong glance. “Right?”

Clearly this was about Geoff and Jack. Ray didn’t know the three of them well enough to even begin to guess what was going on there. Still - something about the fleeting vulnerability Gavin was showing made him pause and ache a little inside with how much it reminded him of himself. Especially since, like him, Gavin had been making a hell of an effort not to show it since they all reunited. Except while Ray preferred to keep a blank face, Gavin apparently liked to be as obnoxiously theatrical as possible.

“What do you want, Free?” he asked, a little uncomfortable at how fucking _personal_ this was all getting. “Some sort of heart to heart? I barely know you.”

“Sometimes that makes it easier,” Gavin replied instantly, and Ray looked away. He thought of how Jack looked at Gavin - at the pain that was still in Geoff’s face, under the anger and coldness, too much like Michael. Of how messily their relationship had broken down before it even began - right in front of him, that night in the Wild.

Jack and Geoff were together now. Happy - or they should be, right? But Gavin must still hang over them like a thundercloud, especially now that they were together again. Nothing could be good when things like that were left unresolved.

“What’s better?” he asked, slowly. Somehow feeling like Gavin would have some wise answer for him. “To leave it all unsaid and never _know_? Or to risk it and end up ruining everything?”

Gavin was silent, and something defensive rose up in Ray’s chest.

“At least I tried,” he said, fiercely, and kicked at a stone on the path ahead of him. “At least I was _honest_.”

“He’s being honest too,” Gavin said, softly.

“What, that he _hates_ me?”

“No,” Gavin replied, “That he isn’t gonna pretend to be in love with you just to resolve things. Would that be better? A life of lies?”

Ray clenched his jaw. He felt attacked, suddenly, _blamed_ for all this.

“This sure as fuck isn’t better,” he snapped back.

“No,” Gavin agreed, “But look, Ray, he’s barely had a chance to think about how he feels-”

“He’s had eight fucking months,” Ray shot back. “What the fuck do you know, fool? You don’t know him. You don’t know me. You don’t know a fucking thing about royal duty, about the fucking _pressure_ on us - so maybe shut the fuck up?”

Gavin just stared at him, patiently, and Ray scowled back - face hot and flushed with anger now.

“I know what it’s like to be in love with your best friend,” Gavin said calmly. “I know what it’s like to feel out of place when you’re with them - to see them with others and think they could never love you, you’re not right for them, you don’t fit.”

It hit him then - all the times he’d seen Michael out with his warriors, drinking together, laughing - thumping each other on the shoulder, his great strapping pack of soldiers. Everything Ray wasn’t - strong, active, fierce. His jaw clenched.

“I know what it’s like to be apart from them,” Gavin continued, “And _know_ that everything’s ruined and still not be able to stop fucking _hoping_.”

Ray squeezed his eyes shut. All of it was too much, Gavin’s words seeping in and wrapping around him, seeming to reflect like a mirror everything he’d felt for too long.

“But I’m free now,” Gavin said abruptly, just as fierce. “No pun intended. I can do what I like. I can _feel_ what I like. Fuck it all, right?”

Ray looked at him, meeting intense green eyes. He thought of how it’d felt back there in Gavin’s commune, sitting in the wheat field with the others. The sun setting over them - the crackle of the fire in the building. The solitude. The silence.

No need to pretend.

You could scream into the wilderness, here. You could stab a thousand draugr just to let your anger out. He could summon walls of thorns if he wanted to - or fields of red roses.

No one was _watching_ him.

He took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Gavin must’ve seen something in his face change - he reached out and touched Ray’s arm, lightly.

“I’m sorry this hasn’t worked out easily for you,” he said, something too sincere in it. “We find other things, we _make_ other things… but it’s still hard to get over the rest.”

“Yeah, well.” Ray shrugged, awkwardly. “Sorry about your issues, too.”  
  
“I’ll be okay,” Gavin said. “We all will. It’s not over yet, you know - not for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ray demanded. Gavin was looking at Michael again.

“No matter what, you’re still ruling together,” he said. “He doesn’t hate you. You don’t hate him. We’re all young. We have time.”

Ray frowned at him, a bit puzzled - unsure what he was getting at. But at that moment, Michael heaved the last log out of their way with a grunt and turned to them, breathing a little heavily. Despite his exertion, he’d barely broken a sweat, but his chest was heaving and Ray saw Gavin’s eyes flick over him appreciatively - his muscles still pulled tight, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He could hardly blame him when he was staring too.

Michael cleared his throat.

“All clear,” he announced.

“Coming,” Gavin replied. He gave Ray a small nudge and the other man jumped a little, but couldn’t quite bring himself to mind.

“Let’s go then, yeah?” he said. “The temple should be just up ahead.”

Ray nodded, following Gavin as they moved forward. He was more confused than ever - didn’t know what to make of the fool any more, didn’t know what he’d meant. Michael glanced at him as he passed - seeming unsure what he might’ve been talking about with Gavin. But he didn’t ask, and Ray didn’t answer, and they headed on through the forest.

 

* * *

 

The temple rose up out of the jungle like an enormous stone arm, its twisting spires and towers stretching towards the sky like grasping fingers. They emerged from the trees into a clearing and paused at the sight of it - it wasn’t an ugly building, but there was something disconcerting about how time and decay had turned the stone an ominous black, about the lack of windows and the jagged way bits and pieces of it stuck out. It reminded Ray of a tangle of thorns, like the Wild throne.

“Fuck,” he heard Michael breathe out next to him.

Even Gavin’s eyes were wide, staring up at it in awe.

“I wonder if the castle looked similar, before it was destroyed,” he murmured. “This sort of architecture seems to be in everything here. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“It’s unsettling,” Ray said, and Gavin glanced at him and gave a small smile.

“This is a land of monsters. Things here are going to be a bit strange.” He stepped forward, face tilting up to look at the building. The sunlight glimmered off his hair, his skin, shimmered over the surface of his creeper garments. Ray could see Michael staring at him, something funny in his face.

“I heard you don’t believe in the gods,” he blurted out, wanting to break the spell, and Gavin glanced at him.

“Well, they’ve not done jack shit for me!” he declared. “Never answered a prayer, never given me a sign. Left me to my own bloody devices my whole life, so like fuck I have anything to _worship_ them for. Why?” he added, curious now. “Do you?”

“I’m partial to the sun god,” Michael murmured.

Ray just shrugged. He was not particularly devout, but there were certain expectations for him as a prince - and now king.

“They’re the one thing all the kingdoms share,” he pointed out. “We all have the same ones. The same stories.”

“If I believed in gods, I’d think they were ancient beings with powers,” Gavin declared. “Like the kings with their gifts! And people just thought they were gods because they had magic, and that’s where the stories come from. That seems to make more sense to me than actual gods, right?”

Both Michael and Ray stared at him, a little taken aback by this rather blasphemic announcement. Gavin was completely unfazed. He clapped his hands together and pointed at the building.

“Anyway! The Wild kingdom believed in them, apparently. You have your cathedrals, your shrines - I guess they had temples. Shall we go on, then?”

They headed up to the building. A large set of stone stairs led up to the entranceway. Lining each side of it were huge statues of Endermen, their long spindly legs holding them high. Some of them had crumbled to the ground, but the ones that were intact were the height of three or four men. They were disconcertingly real looking.

“Guardians,” Gavin mused, brushing his hand across one of the stone legs as they passed. “To keep the sinful out, right? That’s what they do. Hunt those who’ve done bad things. I can feel it - they still want Ryan so badly, you know? They want all of us, I suppose. No one’s ever totally clean. But when you feel guilty - they feed on that.”

“Shouldn’t feeling guilty be a sign that you’re sorry?” Michael pointed out, as Ray hunched his shoulders and gave the statues a suspicious stare.

“Only sometimes,” Gavin replied with a shrug. “Or it means you know what you did was wrong, and did it anyway.”

From afar, the temple had looked intact - but as they got close Ray realised that a large portion of the side was gone, high up off the ground, where the roof had caved in and left a gaping hole. There were heavy stone doors at the top of the steps, but when Gavin stepped forward and pushed at them, they didn’t so much as budge.

“I can break them down,” Michael suggested.

“I think they’re sealed,” Gavin replied, but Michael was already bouncing up and down on the soles of his feet.

“I will do a _flying kick_ ,” he declared, and Gavin barked out a laugh.

“You’ll break your bloody leg off! No - Michael - seriously, Michael, they’re too heavy!” He caught at Michael’s arm when he started to back up to get a running start, tugging him gently back. Michael looked down at his hand, then met Gavin’s eyes and let out a little chuckle before raising his hands.

“Alright. How do you suggest we get in, then?”

“There’s a hole up there,” Ray pointed out, flatly - hating how he still couldn’t help but resent watching them smile at each other. Watching them touch.

Gavin stepped away from Michael and tilted his head back. After a moment he hummed and nodded.

“Good idea, Ray! Let’s get up there.”

“We can’t climb this stone,” Michael pointed out. “It’s smooth.”

“Ray can shoot an arrow with a rope up,” Gavin decided immediately. “I’ve brought a ladder - I’ll climb up and lower it down for you guys.”

Ray shifted as they both turned to him - but it wouldn’t be hard to make the shot.

“You got an arrow?” he asked, and Gavin nodded. He’d come prepared, it seemed - he opened his pack and passed Ray an arrow attached to a coiled length of rope. There was a white, sticky looking ball stuck to the arrowhead.

“Don’t touch it,” Gavin advised. “It’s hard to get off. That’s some of the spiders’ web. Sticks to anything. Aim for that slab of stone up there?”

It was high up, and at an odd angle, but Ray carefully lined up the shot and it flew true, sticking directly to the stone at the first try. The rope hung down towards them and Gavin grasped it, tugging a few times to make sure it was secure.

“Top!” he declared. “Nice shot, Ray.”

“We all know how good he is at archery,” Michael muttered, but there wasn’t much bite in it - like he was only saying it because it was expected. Ray shot him a sidelong glance, annoyed and a little hurt - but Gavin just grinned over his shoulder as he hauled himself up and started climbing.

“Yes!” he cried cheerfully. “He is! How did you get so good, Ray? Why’s the bow your weapon of choice? I’m shite at archery, I’ve tried a few times but could never get the hang of it.”

Ray hesitated, unsure why he was asking. When they arranged the meeting he’d expected everyone to just ignore each other and work together, get things done as fast as possible - not make smalltalk or try and get to _know_ each other, what the fuck. But Gavin glanced over his shoulder and smiled encouragingly, and Ray couldn’t very well just ignore him.  
  
“My family’s made a tradition of it,” he replied, and shrugged. “My parents and their parents were all really into archery. I used to hate it as a kid. You gotta work out to keep your arms strong, you know? Exercise - gross, right?” He flexed his biceps and shrugged. “But my legs - my legs can stay weak and pathetic!”

Gavin laughed, seeming genuinely amused. He was a good several feet up the wall by now, nimbly swinging one arm up over the other and jumping up the wall. It was transfixing to watch him make progress.

“You the best in your kingdom, then?” he asked.

“Gods no,” Ray scoffed. “My soldiers train way more consistently than me. But I’m pretty good.”

“You came third in a kingdom-wide contest once,” Michael piped up suddenly - quietly, voice flat, and Ray froze. That had been a long time ago, when they were only seventeen or so. Michael had been there to watch. He remembered how loudly the other man had cheered - how he’d grabbed Ray and spun him around after he placed. He swallowed hard, not sure what to make of the distant look in Michael’s eyes - like he was reliving the memories too.

“I think people were just scared about beating the prince,” he joked, but it came out weak.

“How about you, Michael?” Gavin added. He was high up by now, focused on climbing - not looking down at them. Probably couldn’t feel the simmering, awkward tension from up there. Lucky bastard. “Just the sword?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, putting a hand on the hilt of his diamond blade. “It serves my needs.”

“Ever thought about using an enormous hammer?” Gavin cried. “That’d be awesome, I think! Because you’re strong, you could just _smash_ everyone aside!”

He made a rather vigorous hand gesture, and swayed sideways very alarmingly on the rope. Ray and Michael both yelled, arms flying out automatically as though to catch him - but he nimbly regained his balance as though he’d never been in trouble in the first place.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Michael replied, after exchanging an incredulous look with Ray.

“What, are warhammers not a thing in the Alps?” Gavin asked, starting to climb again.

“They are,” Michael replied, “But _I’m_ not gonna use one! My sword is great. Why would I do that? _Also_ ,” he added, pulling the blade out and inspecting it, “Thanks for fucking permanently staining it. I don’t know what you did to it fighting the beast, but this black mark won’t come out.”

“Just spit and scrub,” Gavin informed him cheerfully. “That’s what I do?”

“That’s how you bathe out here in the Wild? Spit and scrub?” Ray asked, teasing before he could help it.

“Yeah, like a cat!” Gavin replied. And then, “Just to clarify, I’m joking. That’s not how I wipe my arse or anything. The very thought.”

There was a pause, then he faltered in his climbing and let out an actual gag. Ray couldn’t help laughing, the first genuine amusement he’d had in a while.

“Oh my fucking gods,” Michael muttered, rolling his eyes, though his lips were twitching too.

“Michael, don’t swear Michael,” Gavin replied, and then sing-songed, mockingly, “The gods will _hear_ you, we’re at a temple! They’ll strike me down! Oh no!”

“Don’t tempt them, Gav,” Michael replied. “We call that hubris, and people get fucked over by it.”

“Yes, I have heard the word. I _am_ in possession of a vocabulary.”

He’d reached the top of the wall by now and hauled himself up to straddle the broken edge at the top of the gap. He sat a moment, and from down here Ray could see his shoulders heaving as he caught his breath, his lithe body silhouetted against the bright afternoon sky. When he’d recovered himself, he pulled a coiled rope ladder from his pack and tossed it down, securing the top end to one of the jagged edges of stone.

“Up you come, then, lads!” he called down.

Ray glanced over at Michael, who held out a hand, gesturing for him to go first. There was the usual, underlying mockery in it - _after you, dear_ \- but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

It didn’t take long to climb with the ladder. As he neared the top, Gavin stretched out a hand. Ray hesitated, but the rope ladder swayed unsteadily and he reached up and grasped Gavin’s hand. He nearly lost his balance and ended up clutching at Gavin’s arms as he reached to help him. The other man pulled him up with surprising strength and settled him next to him.

“All good?” he asked. Their faces were too close, something intense in his eyes. Ray nodded, licking his lips nervously and looking away.

Before long Michael had ascended to join them, and they were all three perched on the edge of the wall. On one side of them, there was a drop down to the jungle below where they’d come from. On the other, a gaping chasm into the depths of the tomb - nothing but shadows and darkness.

The draugr were slowly rattling their way up the rope ladder. Gavin was lighting a torch.

“They can go first,” he said. “They’ll climb down and hold these so we have light to see by. Whatever’s down there, I’ll see it through their eyes when they reach the bottom - then it can’t take us by surprise.”

Michael nodded. Ray just pressed his lips together. He hated heights, and was feeling rather unsteady up here. He didn’t think anyone would notice - but a second later, Gavin reached out and casually took his arm, holding onto it. He didn’t comment, didn’t even look Ray’s way - but Ray let out a slow breath, feeling remarkably steadier.

“I wonder what we’ll find in there,” Gavin continued, cheerfully - as the draugr reached the top of the ladder and he reeled it up, flipping it to descend into the temple instead. He passed one of the skeletons the torch, and they began to climb down. “Another beast?”

“Let’s hope not,” Ray muttered, and Gavin beamed at him.

“Michael can kill it!” he said. “The three of us can! We make a solid team, with our gifts. We’re all well powerful. Ray, you could have just grown vines up that wall. But I guess that would have taken a lot of energy.”

Ray shrugged.

“Is it exhausting controlling all the mobs in the Wild?” he asked, and Gavin tilted his head, humming thoughtfully.

“I guess it’s mostly subconscious by now. I give them one order and they just keep doing that thing until they’re done, so I’m not controlling all of them, every second. It wasn’t hard putting up a block to keep them within the Wild. If I was controlling a whole army doing individual things - like a choreographed dance number - then yeah, it’d be hard.”

There was a pause. The draugr had vanished out of sight into the darkness of the temple, only the faint glowing light of the torch below showing their presence.

“By the way,” Gavin said suddenly, “You never invited me to the wedding.”

Ray froze at the mere mention of their relationship, and he saw Michael stiffen on Gavin’s other side.

“Trust me,” Michael said, his voice tight. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“I went to a royal wedding once,” Gavin continued brightly, either uncaring or oblivious that this was not a topic they wanted to discuss. “One of Geoff’s distant cousins. I was the entertainment, of course, not a guest. But I still got to eat cake!”

“Do not speak to us of cake,” Ray muttered, under his breath.

“Anyway,” Gavin said. “Did _nothing_ exciting happen at yours? No drunken aunties or uncles starting fistfights? No one shit themselves while giving a speech?”

“No,” Michael replied, incredulously, “No one _shit_ themselves, fucking gods.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun,” Gavin commented. “You should’ve invited me! _I_ could have shit myself and caused a stir!”

“What the _fuck_ ,” Michael cried - Ray could only stare, and be faintly relieved that Gavin’s fooling was drawing attention away from the fact that the wedding hadn’t just been dull, but one of the worst days of his life - looking at Michael’s face and knowing he didn’t want to be there. To do this. To be with _him_. “Why?”

“If it was as awkward as I’m guessing, it would’ve made it funny!”

“It would’ve made it _disastrous_ ,” Michael replied, and Gavin just laughed to himself.

“I bet you both looked right handsome all done up,” he informed them. “Did you wear flower crowns?”

It was Ray he turned to for an answer, and the other man shook his head.

“No.”

“But you’re the Rose King! Oh my gods, guys. I should have arranged your wedding. I would’ve made it so much fun - and we could’ve all got bevved!”

“Michael _did_ get bevved,” Ray couldn’t help saying, snidely. He didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t help but resent that still - the other man blatantly drinking his sorrows away. Like he didn’t want to be there.

“Did you vom?” Gavin asked. “Sing loudly? Try to spin around on your head in the middle of the dance floor?”

“No,” Michael replied flatly. “I can hold my alcohol.”

“Did anything get set on fire?”

“ _No!_ ” Michael and Ray both said in unison, and Gavin dissolved into fits of giggles.

“I really want to arrange a wedding now,” he said, longingly.

“What the fuck would you even do?” Michael asked. He sounded annoyed, but Ray could tell he was faking it. Could practically hear the fondness underneath. “Bring your army of spiders and cats?”

“ _Yes_!”

“That’d make a better divorce party,” Ray muttered. “One big last hurrah.”

It slipped out automatically, and he winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth - as he saw Gavin pull a face and Michael look away.

There was a very awkward silence.

Ray felt sick. Somehow, suddenly, a dread overtook him - a sudden certainty that after all of the kings coming together like this, it would change everything, like the games had. That he and Michael would never be able to just go back to the marriage they’d had before, in all its stilted coldness. He wasn’t sure what would happen - if things would get better, or far more likely, if they’d get _worse_. If Michael would stay here in the Wild, with Gavin. Or if Ray would be the one to find himself unable to return. If they’d break apart and lose any semblance of togetherness that might still be clinging to life under all the rest of this shit.

_Divorce._ He wished he hadn’t said it - he hadn’t really meant to.

“Well,” Gavin said finally, with an awkwardly sort of chuckle. “That got frosty. Shall we just... ignore that remark and head down into the spooky dark temple now?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Michael said stiffly. Ray’s chest felt tight, and Michael still wasn’t looking at him. Gavin let go of his arm and swung himself down first, leaving Ray and Michael sitting on the wall in an uncomfortable silence, avoiding each other’s gaze and watching him descend slowly into the darkness below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing art! Thank you so much <3
> 
> [King Gavin sketch](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/147257918879/ibingehardonfanfics-a-pre-sketch-teaser-for-a) by ibingehardonfanfics
> 
> [King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/147258057999/fakeahbabe-listens-to-broken-crown-by-mumford) by fakeahbabe


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves an image. If it doesn't display in the story itself, find it [here](http://i946.photobucket.com/albums/ad307/jdimmond/NEW%20BIGGER%20COPY_zps9qdrcqro.png). :)

Geoff looked over his shoulder at the golems, trudging noisily behind them as they travelled through the Wild. Their blank faces and shining redstone eyes were disconcerting - he’d heard of them, in news from the Stoneworld, but never seen one up close until now.

“They’re not alive,” Ryan spoke up suddenly, and Geoff jumped. He turned to find the other man looking back at him, eyebrows raised - he’d been striding up ahead, following the map.

“Of course not,” Geoff said curtly, but Ryan let out a low chuckle.

“But you’re thinking it, aren’t you? Wondering if they’re listening to what you’re saying, if they can read your expressions. My people had a lot of questions at first. You don’t need to be scared of them. They’re just machines. They obey commands - within reason.”

“But do the people like them, now?” Geoff asked. He couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he suddenly unleashed a metal army onto his people, especially out of nowhere like it seemed Ryan had. Then again, the Plains were a very different society. Much larger, and never under such strict control.

“Yes,” Ryan replied. “It’s not like they’ve taken their jobs. Many of them are now being trained to repair and maintain the golems. The rest basically get paid to oversee someone else doing the most boring and dangerous work now. At first they were wary - but they have become very popular. Some families paint and decorate them, though technically they all still belong to me.”

“You don’t mind?” Geoff asked. His automatic thought had been of the golems enforcing some sort of tyrannical control, of the people not being able to question or touch or interfere with them.

“No,” Ryan replied, and his lips twitched into a brief almost-smile. “It makes the city more colourful. As long as the art remains appropriate. The fool and his… _friends_ … defaced a number of mine with obscene and disturbingly realistic images.”

Geoff couldn’t help his loud snort, and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Extremely immature behaviour,” he added.

“To be fair, you said you were spying on him.”

Ryan just shrugged, and continued on. Geoff shot the golems one more glance before moving to walk alongside him.

It was strange, being alone with Ryan - the usual tension and animosity between them seemed dulled, somewhat. Maybe because of the situation they were in - or maybe because they were outside the castle and the city. Ryan seemed different out here, when he wasn’t carefully done up in his royal garments and making sure his every movement, facial expression, and gesture was planned and controlled to suit some image. With his face a little grimy, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, sleeves rolled up and boots muddy - there was still something powerful about him, but it was different. Not as artificial, as deliberately intimidating. Instead he just seemed _capable_ , determined and not afraid to get his hands dirty - and Geoff had to grudgingly admit that he was glad to have the other man’s help with this beast business. He was out of his depth here.

“But they _are_ an army,” he added, thoughtfully. “They can fight.”

“No sword or arrow can penetrate them. They can hit hard enough to kill a man in one blow. Yes, they can fight.”

“But against a beast?” Geoff prompted. “It seems the only way to kill those is to cut their heads off. Can they use a sword?”

“I’m sure I could teach them to,” Ryan replied. “If any dragon or minotaur comes to my gates, I have more than enough golems to stop them. No human sacrifices need be made. Then again, if Free killed one on his own, they can’t be that terrifying.”

“Whatever Gavin killed, it wasn’t a dragon,” Geoff snapped, rather put out. “That thing was fucking enormous. No one could’ve killed it on their own, not with just a sword. I mean, maybe Michael, but how would he have gotten close enough? It took wits and, and, and cunning!”

“Cunning is not a word many would use to describe _you_ ,” Ryan said - Geoff stared at him, unsure if that was an insult or not. After a moment, Ryan shrugged. “But I’ll not take away from your victory. I’m sure killing it has restored your damaged reputation among your people.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Geoff muttered. “People always find something to complain about.”

He moved to keep walking, expecting Ryan to end the conversation there, or make some snide comment about how in Geoff’s case, their complaints were warranted. But to his surprise, the other man hesitated for a moment.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said, voice suddenly tight, “When I said Michael and Ray look up to you.”

“What?” Geoff asked, turning to him in confusion.

Ryan swallowed.

“You are very popular in the other kingdoms,” he continued, slowly. “Perhaps not so much your own. But among the young dukes and noblemen… they admire you. The casual king - he drinks with his men, he swears. He defies the stuffy old members of his court. He doesn’t care what others think of him.”

“Well, I care sometimes,” Geoff replied, but had no idea where this was going. He was aware that people around the four lands - five now, counting the Wild, but that didn’t have much of a population - looked up to him, that his reputation was certainly something that interested the younger citizens. But he had no clue why _Ryan_ was bringing that up, now.

“So very different from everyone else,” Ryan continued, and it wasn’t even mocking. “They all want to come to your court, to meet you. Even I, as a young man…”

He trailed off, seeming awkward suddenly. Geoff could only stare at him.

He thought back to when he’d first met Ryan - that funny, silent lad dressed all in black. He’d thought the other man disapproved of him - his mother certainly had! Ryan had barely spoken to him. Had never _seemed_ to admire him. Geoff had assumed Ryan hated him - had hated him back, because of the Stoneworld’s reputation.

“You what?” Geoff asked, suddenly unsure.

But Ryan shook himself. His face shuttered over, blank and hard once more.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, stiffly, and sneered. “The charm of your reputation certainly wears off upon meeting you in person.”

Now, the insult seemed almost like a cover. Geoff wasn’t sure what he meant, what this entire conversation had been about - only that for a moment, the disdain and near hatred Ryan had always shown him had flickered away for a moment.

He stared at Ryan - but the other man seemed embarrassed, and turned away quickly, shaking the map out.

“Come on,” he said, as he began to walk again. “Let’s not waste time.”

 

* * *

 

The temple was a low, squat building, with a rounded roof covered in stone spikes. It looked like a tangle of thorns on the ground, or maybe a hedgehog, curled up and slumbering. There didn’t appear to be any windows, but the dark opening of a door was visible in the part of the building that faced them.

“It looks intact,” Geoff said - that was unsettling, considering how destroyed everything else was.

“Domes are very strong structures,” Ryan replied. “Whatever turned everything else into ruins, it probably couldn’t do the same to this when it’s covered in spikes.”

“Good point,” Geoff muttered, but couldn’t help his shudder as they walked forward. The spikes looked cruel, the dark doorway unsettling, and that awful _tingle_ in the air was even more intense here, sending a constant shiver up and down his spine, the hair rising on the back of his neck. His gut twisted, fear creeping up into his stomach, and it was only the fact that Ryan kept walking that forced him to continue planting one foot after the other.

“It feels fucking weird in here,” he blurted out. “Is it something in the air? The whole Wild feels weird. Science that, huh?”

“It’s just our imaginations,” Ryan replied, calmly. “Instinct. We know how dangerous this place is.”

“Not magic?” Geoff asked. “Some people say the forest is.”

Ryan scoffed.

“You’ll expect there to be fairies, next,” he sneered.

“Gavin looks like a fairy,” Geoff couldn’t help saying. That’d been strange, too - seeing how much he’d changed. It’d made him unexpectedly sad - made it feel even more like the young man he’d loved was gone.

“He is human,” Ryan snapped, brusquely. “He is flesh and blood like the rest of us. Do not underestimate the power of theatricality.”

He sounded so annoyed that Geoff decided that perhaps it would be better if neither of them spoke about Gavin. Instead he looked at Ryan - he was tense, jaw clenched.

“People used to say you had powers,” he murmured. “That you could read minds, things like that.”

“Only the gift,” Ryan said. “Fools will start rumours about anything.”

He paused - they’d reached the temple now, and as they fell silent the dread that Geoff had barely been keeping at bay flooded back in. His stomach twisted - the entrance into the temple was pitch black, and he wanted nothing more to turn and run in the other direction.

Now would probably be a good time to inform Ryan just how fucking terrified he was of dark places, ghosts, anything _remotely_ supernatural, and basically every single thing they were about to walk into. Well then.

But he couldn’t lose face - he held his ground, clenched his fists to stop them trembling, and waited as Ryan put the map away and pulled out a redstone torch. He turned to look at Geoff, who tried to force a smile - but Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Scared?” he challenged.

“Of course not,” Geoff replied. It would’ve been convincing if his voice hadn’t shot three octaves higher and cracked like an egg.

Ryan laughed.

"Don’t worry,” he said. “What could be in here? Why fear monsters - they’re flesh like the rest of us, they can be killed.”

"And demons? Ghosts?”

“Don’t exist,” Ryan replied immediately, stepping into the temple. Geoff was forced to follow him - walked a step behind him, and perhaps a little closer to his side than he otherwise would’ve liked to be. The dark swallowed them up - the entrance led into a long, narrow corridor, pitch black and consuming. Their footsteps echoed horribly against the stone floor and walls. Geoff couldn’t stop glancing over his shoulder, watching the rectangular light of the open door grow smaller and smaller behind them.

“I wonder what god this temple is for,” Ryan replied. “If it’s even the same pantheon as ours.”

“The god of fucking dark creepy corridors. The god of hedgehogs. The god of I’m about to shit my fucking pants,” Geoff muttered - when Ryan stopped abruptly, he bumped into the other man’s back and let out a girlish shriek. “Fuck! What is it?”

“Contain yourself,” Ryan said, a bit irritably - but it trailed off into awe as he stepped forward, and Geoff realised the corridor had come to an end. He hesitated, but followed Ryan forward.

The hallway emerged into an enormous, round space - the belly of this terrible temple. Ryan lifted the torch and willed the redstone to shine brighter - and an icy hand clenched around Geoff’s heart as lines and lines of human faces stared at him from the walls.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he gasped - he felt frozen, sick with fear - for a moment all he could see were the eyes staring at him vacantly, the unfriendly lines of the mouths - “Oh gods, oh gods-”

“They’re just paintings,” Ryan said. “I don’t believe this temple is for any god at all.”

“Then what is it?” Geoff wheezed out - he inched closer to Ryan; fuck their animosity, he needed to be close to a _human_. Ryan didn’t seem to notice - he was wandering forward to look at the walls, curious. As they got closer, Geoff realised they were indeed paintings - and it hit him, then, that each panel had writing on it, and a head-and-shoulders image. The paint had worn away over the years, the writing now hard to read, the chipped and flaky images even creepier for how they were missing patches of colour.

This was a tomb - a columbarium.

They must have cremated their bodies here in the Wild; behind each picture was an urn. While most people in the Plains opted for burials, he had seen similar places there before.

Suddenly it hit him that he was surrounded by the ashes of dead bodies. It only made another chill run down his spine.

“Fascinating,” Ryan murmured, reaching up and touching one of the images.

“Don’t!” Geoff hissed. “You’ll anger them!”

Ryan shot him an unimpressed look - he lifted the torch and looked around. Every wall was lined floor-to-ceiling with the tiles, at least until the roof arched away into a dome.

He walked to the opposite wall to look at the tombs there, and Geoff was forced to scuttle after him. The domed ceiling made every rustle of clothing, every shuffling footstep and metallic _clank_ of the golems resound eerily throughout the entire space, and Geoff nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a noise from the darkness.

“Oh gods, oh gods, I heard someone! Someone’s in here!” He clutched at Ryan’s sleeve, and the other man turned to him irritably.

“It’s no one. There’s just us.”

“I swear there was a sound!”

“It was probably _you_ ,” Ryan said, but obliged him by falling silent. Geoff waited on tenterhooks, but there was no sound, and finally Ryan scoffed.

“Told you. Honestly, you killed a _dragon_ and now you’re jumping at shadows?”

“I can’t handle ghosts!” Geoff protested. “There used to be a rumour that the east tower of the Plains castle was haunted. Jack and I went up there one night as children and I swear, there was something up there! I felt a _presence_ , Ryan! A _presence!”_

“Was it the presence of the impending shit you were about to drop in your pants? Because that’s the only thing haunting you,” Ryan said. If Geoff wasn’t so terrified, he might’ve thought he sounded almost teasing.

“I’m serious, Ryan!” he protested. “I believe in it, even if you don’t! Spirits that bad things have happened to can’t rest. And something very, very bad happened here in the Wild.”

Ryan was silent for a moment. When he spoke his voice was harsh.

“If people could come back from the dead to haunt you, to _hurt_ you, they would have done so to me already,” he said. “I assure you, the people I _have_ killed have not once appeared as some mysterious presence to take revenge…”

He trailed off, suddenly, his eyes fixing on some point over Geoff’s shoulder. Geoff froze, petrified.

“Oh, my gods,” he whispered. “What is it, what’s behind me?”

Ryan’s lips twitched.

“A door,” he said, pointing - and Geoff turned and realised that the light of the torch had fallen upon another doorway behind him. He let out a relieved breath, shoulders slumping, and followed Ryan through.

It led into another, small chamber, that looked like a little shrine of some sort. The main thing in there was a large stone altar. It looked like there had once been a metal statue standing over it, but time and corrosion had turned it unrecognisable. Behind the altar was another door - heavy, the same colour as the wall - hard to see unless you were looking for something out of the ordinary. When Ryan pushed at it, it didn’t budge.

“Is that a lock?” Geoff asked, pointing to a strange metal panel at one side of the door.

Ryan leaned in to look closer.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s a redstone device that keeps the door sealed. It would normally need a redstone key to open, but my gift can unlock it.”

“That’ll work? You can break in like that?”

“Of course,” Ryan replied. “I know exactly how redstone works.”

He touched the tip of the torch to the panel, and it glowed brightly. A moment later, the door slid open with the horrible grating noise of rock scraping against rock. In the silence it sounded awful, and Geoff had a sudden fear that something would hear it. He wasn’t quite sure what _something_ was, just that it was something very bad and scary and that he did not want to see.

“Ah, lovely,” Ryan said. “Another long, dark corridor.”

“I think we should walk down it backwards,” Geoff blurted out.

Ryan was silent a moment.

“I’m sure, in your walnut sized brain, there is some explanation for why you would think that is a good idea, but I am definitely going to walk down it forwards,” he replied. “And as I am carrying the torch, you can walk behind me any way you like.”

He strode into the darkness, and Geoff let out a muffled whimper before heading in after him.

This corridor was even worse than the first one. The air smelt horribly stuffy - like it had been stagnating in there a thousand years. It probably had, to be honest.

“Phew!” Ryan said. For some reason, it was funny to hear him make that sound. Or maybe Geoff was just hysterical; either way, he giggled unstoppably for a few moments before forcing himself to follow Ryan in.

“So far nothing here is very helpful,” Ryan mused. “I was hoping for books, tablets, some sort of information on exactly what used to go on in this place-”

He broke off as a resounding _click_ rang out through the corridor.

“The fuck was that?” Geoff yelled, alarmed.

“I stepped on something,” Ryan said, voice very strained. “The stone under my foot - a pressure plate, I think-”

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. Geoff screamed, jumping nearly out of his skin - even Ryan let out a yell of surprise. He spun around, and for a moment all Geoff could see was his face, lit up crimson from the redstone torch, very close to his - his eyes, wide and startled-

Then they were _falling_.

The floor under them had opened up, and for a few heart-dropping moments Geoff was plummeting through the air. He didn’t even have enough time to scream.

They didn’t drop far. Moments later he hit hard stone and let out a wheezing gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. He’d landed on his side - his body ached, but nothing felt broken, and he heard a _thud_ as Ryan landed next to him - and then metallic crashing as the golems fell down beside them.

“Fuck,” he heard Ryan hiss.

“What’s happening?” Geoff cried, sitting up as soon as his breath was back. Ryan had dropped the torch, and it’d rolled near him - Geoff snatched it up, staring frantically about.

They’d fallen maybe eight feet or so - too high to climb back out unassisted - and were now in a small pit of bare stone. The walls to the left and right of them were covered in horrible, long, sharp spikes, just like the temple’s roof.

“What is this?” Geoff shrieked.

Ryan was clambering to his feet next to him.

“A booby trap,” he said, and cursed. “Against thieves! The redstone must have some way of telling if someone doesn’t use the key and just breaks in.”

“Fuck,” Geoff hissed, “Damn it-”

Suddenly, there was another horrible grating sound, and the spiked walls began to move in towards them. It took Geoff a moment to register what was happening - when he did, he let out another squawk.

“Oh gods, what’s going on _now_ \- fuck, fuck-”

He backed towards the centre of the room, Ryan moving with him as the walls closed in towards them. The golems walked forward and strained to push the walls back, but they moved in with a force that sent the metal men’s feet sliding across the floor with a horrible _screech_. Even they would be crushed.

“Can we climb out?” Ryan demanded.

“Not in time!” Geoff shot back - his heart was pounding, the wickedly sharp points moving ever towards them, and he turned to Ryan, desperately.

“Do something!”

 

* * *

 

Ray took the final step off the rope ladder. It was strange for his boots to hit solid stone ground again - he stumbled, and Gavin grabbed his arm to steady him. Ray looked up and gave him a small nod before pulling away and looking around.

Michael and the draugr were standing a little way away. The two skeletons were holding torches, and in the flickering firelight Ray realised they were in an enormous entrance hall. The open roof meant the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt, stray leaves and pinecones underfoot.

Gavin took one of the torches.

“Let’s explore, then,” he said, and led them deeper into the temple.

The hall itself was huge, and eerily empty. Winding columns held up the rest of the roof, and they passed by alcoves with little altars - the rusted remains of candle stands and shrines.

“Things are pretty intact in here,” Gavin commented, looking around. He ran a finger along one of the pillars and it came off with a thick layer of dust. “I guess they built these things to last.”

“It’s fucking creepy,” Ray muttered. Truth be told, he was a little scared in here, not that he’d ever let it show. Something about the enormous archways they were passing, just how _dark_ it was as they left the hole in the roof behind them - anything could be lurking around them, outside that circle of firelight, and they’d never _know_.

Michael and Gavin were fearless as usual, striding eagerly ahead. He knew Michael wasn’t scared, he never was - and if Gavin had run off into the Wild to fight the first beast on his own, he was probably reckless enough to be brave too. It made Ray feel unexpectedly weak, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t like it in here.

There was something unnatural to the place, that unnerving tingle of magic building up at the base of his neck, filling his head with a thrumming buzz that made him feel like he was going to explode.

Michael kept shaking his head now and then, like he could feel it too - but Gavin seemed entirely unaffected, bouncing happily along and _touching_ everything as they passed. The entrance way hollowed out into four large alcoves, each with an enormous statue in it, and he sprang right up to one of them and thumped on its stone foot.

“Everything here is so old!” he exclaimed. “Look at these! I guess whatever wiped everything out did it _centuries_ ago. Millenia, even! We’re looking at ancient history, here.”

“Same gods, though,” Ray muttered, staring up at the regal stone face and recognising it.

Gavin nodded, and pointed at the adjacent alcove.

“Look, there’s your favourite, Michael. Mister Sun God.”

Michael grinned, walking over to the statue and saluting it. Gavin spun in a slow circle, staring at all four.

“I guess this temple is for the four siblings. God of the sea,” he said, pointing. “And there’s the god of wisdom, with his giant-ass sword - like you, Michael!”

Michael laughed. It echoed through the space, sounding like a dozen voices cackling all around them. Ray shivered.

“I’m not wise,” he replied. “I’m telling you, I’m the sun god.”

“Because you’re hot tempered?” Gavin asked, giving him a glance that was bit too close to fond.

"No, because I light up the life of everyone I meet,” Michael shot back.

Ray glanced between the two of them, bantering happily away - felt oddly left out, but wasn’t inclined to join in. He still didn’t like this place. It had a weird vibe.

Gavin moved up to the last statue.

“God of luck and dexterity,” he said, poking at it. “If I believed in them, he’d be my favourite.”

“There’s a door there,” Ray said suddenly, noticing a passageway just beside Gavin. Part of the wall had crumbled and there was a large stone slab blocking it, but behind it he could see open space.

“Nice spot, Ray!” Gavin said. “Michael, can you push this aside?”

“Of course I can,” Michael replied, marching over. He rolled his sleeves up, braced his boots against the floor and shoved at the slab. It barely budged, scraping against the stone horribly - Michael heaved and groaned, the muscles in his shoulders and back straining.

“Need help?” Gavin asked, with a laugh.

“No,” Michael snapped back. “My boots are slippery.”

“I’ll push your back!” Gavin declared - he made to touch Michael, but the other man squirmed away when his hands pressed against his shoulder-blades.

“That tickles,” he said. “Stop!”

Lit up by the flaming torch, Gavin’s face twisted into a wicked grin.

“Are you ticklish, Michael?” he demanded.

“No!”

“Ray, is he?” Gavin turned to Ray, and the other man couldn’t help his smirk.

“Extremely,” he replied, cruelly. “His one weakness.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Michael warned, swiping at Gavin a few times until he danced back out of the way, giggling. Even Ray couldn’t help his smile; it reminded him of when they’d been children having sleepovers - the mock battles with their light wooden swords. Pillow fights. A simpler time.

“Did you used to have tickle battles?” Gavin asked. He was addressing Ray again, as Michael shook himself out and had another go at pushing the rubble out of the way.

“Sometimes,” Ray replied.

“It never worked,” Michael called out. “I’m stronger than him - even before I got the gift. He didn’t want to provoke me into a wrestling match.”

Ray couldn’t help his laugh at the memory. It faltered off as he remembered where they were, now - his eyes met Michael’s as the other man looked over his shoulder. They shared a look - and gods, Ray could still see that child in him, his best friend and all the fun they’d used to have - then Michael glanced away and with a final mighty heave, shoved the stone slab aside. It slid out of the way, revealing a dark entrance.

Gavin applauded, and Michael wiped his brow and mock-bowed.

“Let’s see where this leads us, then,” Gavin said, leading the way in. Michael gestured for Ray to go next, and he bit his lip and followed Gavin through. The other man had paused in the middle of the next room - it was an expansive chamber and looked like some sort of research lab. Benches were lined up, covered in shattered glass from destroyed equipment.

Gavin was staring at something in the corner, and Ray came up next to him only to jump out of his skin at the sight of a skeleton, sitting in a chair sprawled over one of the benches.

“Shit!” he hissed - he backed away and bumped into Michael, who’d just come in. The other man grabbed his elbow automatically and Ray froze, stiffening. They hadn’t touched each other in a long time, and it felt strange being so close to him again.

“What is it?” Michael asked, with genuine concern.

“Some poor bugger’s carked it over this table,” Gavin said, and Michael let go of Ray to go and see.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “What were they working on in here?”

“Who knows,” Gavin replied, wandering off and looking around, examining the other benches. Ray crept up to look again - there was no sign of what’d killed the man.

“Seems strange for a temple, doesn’t it?” he pointed out. “I mean, I don’t know about the Wild, but back in the desert we don’t use our churches for science experiments.”

“Good point,” Michael said - Ray glanced at him, but he was peering closely into the skeleton’s eyes, and after a moment Ray wandered back to Gavin, who had passed the torch to one of his draugr and was turning something over in his hands.

“What’s that?” he asked, and Gavin looked up at him.

“A book,” he said. “But it’s useless. The pages have rotted away.”

“What about those?” Ray asked - a stack of stone tablets lay on the bench nearby. Gavin picked one up, and let out a murmur of surprise to find a painted image still on it, though the colours were faded and worn away in places.

“You find something?” Michael came up now, too, hovering over Ray’s shoulder. “Shit, what’s that?”

There were no words on the tablets, just an image on each one. They were crudely drawn, the paint patchy and cracked, and as Gavin laid them out in a row it took Ray a second to realise he was looking at pictures of humans and Endermen.

 

 

“What the fuck is this?” Michael muttered. “Is it a story?”

“That Enderman looks so over life,” Ray said immediately. “Doesn’t appreciate being stabbed, poor bastard. His friend, the magical eyeball box, really doesn’t like that. Flings out a spooky eye, which hits the Enderman, and he rises again. Forty times bigger, and forty times more ready to kick ass.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment, then started laughing.

“That’s amazing, and I love it, but I think these need to be put in the correct order.” He looked down at the five pictures and shuffled them around various ways before shrugging. “No idea what that round thing is meant to be. More importantly, is it going into the Enderman… _or coming out?_ ” He raised his arms and wiggled his head from side to side in perhaps the most melodramatic display of confusion that Ray had ever seen, and was met with a rather unimpressed silence.

“Is it actually the Enderman’s eyeball?” Michael asked after a moment.

“That’s a bloody big eyeball if it is one. Why would it be flying in the air like that?”

“Like I said, maybe it’s an orb from the sky that goes into the Enderman?” Ray asked, switching the tablets around. “Or maybe it’s the sun?”

“No clue,” Gavin said, shrugging. He scooped the tablets up and shoved them in his bag. “Maybe the others can make more sense of it.”

They turned away from the table, splitting apart again to wander around. There didn’t seem to be much more in the lab - Ray wandered about the walls, touching the stones, until finally he pushed on one and it pressed inwards. A section of the wall slid open, revealing another door.

“Hey,” he called out - Gavin and Michael turned from where they’d been investigating the skeleton again, and Gavin whooped as he ran over.

“How’d you find that?”

“Secret panel,” Ray explained. “I used to love reading books about treasure hunters as a kid.”

“Unlike me,” Michael muttered. “Refused to read a damn thing. Tutoring was painful. I just wanted to ride and fight and punch things.”

“I read you some of the stories,” Ray couldn’t help pointing out. “When you used to stay over.”

“That was fine, someone _else_ reading them. They were real fucking gory things,” Michael said, and laughed a bit. “People falling into pits of spikes and lava - let’s hope these ancient temples don’t have anything like that in them!”

“Or giant snakes,” Ray said.

“I remember the giant snake!” Michael cried. “We couldn't stop laughing at it, and your father got mad at us for being noisy so late at night.”

Gavin was glancing between the two of them in amusement.

“Geoff would hate that,” he said. “He’s terrified of snakes. Well, just in case there’s any of that through here, I’d better send the draugr in first. Secret passages are more likely to have traps in them.”

He gestured the skeletons into the dark passageway. In the silence that followed, Ray realised he was still smiling - that Michael was, too. It faded once he noticed it, another stab of painful nostalgia tugging at his chest. He looked away, and saw Gavin staring at the two of them.

“Dan was the only proper friend I made as a kid,” Gavin said, suddenly. “We spent some time together when the circus passed through his village. Then didn’t see each other for years only to reunite ages later in the city. But I still remember the things we did - we went exploring out in the countryside, in the forests around the place. It’s a wonder we weren’t killed by a bear or anything. We’d do stupid things like try and jump across the stream, or play at being bandits and soldiers and hit each other with sticks. I used to think about running away and living in that forest - in the trees with the animals. Like something out of a fairytale.” He snorted. “Needless to say, I didn’t.”

“But now you basically have done that,” Michael pointed out, lips twitching.

Gavin laughed. “Suppose I have, except now I’m old enough to actually take care of myself. Still - it’s nice, that Dan’s here with me. I don’t know what I’d’ve done if I was alone. I wonder sometimes if he misses the city - he never says anything, but he wouldn’t. I think he misses the pub, more than anything.”

“We used to go exploring,” Ray murmured - didn’t mean it as a conversation starter, but Gavin turned to him with interest, and he was forced to continue. “We weren’t meant to leave the palace grounds when we were little, but we always tried to sneak out.”

“In the desert, at least,” Michael added. “Little kids running off in the Alps would be a recipe for disaster. Still, there was one time we snuck out and tried to head up the mountain - remember?”

“We were looking for a Yeti,” Ray remembered with a fond smile. “But _you_ got us totally lost and it was nearing winter - I thought we were going to die, out there in the snow. We were probably only out there for a couple of hours, but we were already making plans to hunt animals and build shelter. Your mother came out looking for us and we thought she was an actual bear.”

Gavin burst out laughing.

“Did you run away from her?”

“Yes!” Michael said. “She wasn’t amused! Thought we were fucking around. It was all Ray’s fault for panicking. I wanted to stand and fight.”

“Oh, gods, that would have been hilarious. Bet you both got a right telling off after that.”

Ray shrugged, unable to help his small laugh - Gavin was beaming, and even Michael was grinning away, and it was _nice_ , being able to be together and talk and not _fight_ for once.

Before he could dwell on it, Gavin suddenly turned to the passageway again, closing his eyes briefly.

“It’s safe,” he said, and tapped his temple. “No booby traps here. Let’s go through.”

Michael seemed to shake himself. He marched down the corridor first - Ray met Gavin’s eyes and found him looking at him with something funny, almost calculating in his gaze. He ignored it, moving through next, Gavin taking up the rear.

The corridor sloped steeply downward, and emerged into a cavernous chamber. There were torches on the walls, and Gavin moved to light them with his own, sending the whole place into flickering illumination.

“What is this room?” Michael breathed out, looking around.

The room was empty save for four levers in the middle of the enormous, empty space. On the opposite wall were a pair of wide, stone doors about halfway up the wall, but they were sealed shut and had no handles. The only way to open them seemed to be two chains attached to them, that were in turn attached to two scales. Hanging above these scales were two large, stone weights attached to a pulley system. If they fell to push down the scales, the chains would pull the doors open.

“Fuck, that looks complicated,” Ray said, as he tilted his head up to see a massive system of weights, pulleys and scales, chains criss-crossing the expansive ceiling. “What is this?”

“It’s a puzzle,” Gavin replied, tilting his head. He pointed at the doors. “We need to get those weights to fall, then the chains will pull the doors open, right?”

He walked up to one of the four levers and tentatively pulled it. There was a rusty grating noise before one of the chains shifted, and a set of scales up above them swung sideways.

“You gotta pull them in a certain order,” Ray said. “Move them around until you can drop those weights there.”

“Fuck, that’ll take ages to figure out,” Michael replied, squinting up into the shadowy ceiling. “I leave this to you geniuses.”

“Um,” Ray said, quite frankly clueless as to how to go about this.

Gavin turned to him.

“Do you like puzzles, Ray?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ray replied. “I don’t _dislike_ them.”

“I love them,” Gavin informed him, and walked around pulling each lever. Each seemed to move a different weight into a new position. After only a few tries, Gavin was already scratching his head.

“Okay,” he said, and sighed. “Let’s take this slowly and figure it out.”

 

* * *

 

It ended up taking them an hour and a half to solve the damn thing. That involved two rage quits, Michael threatening to just break the stone doors down, and Gavin becoming convinced that the system was broken and would never work.

Still - in that time, Ray quickly realised that Gavin was very clever. He got frustrated at times, sure - and apparently yelled _crev!_ when he did so - but he relentlessly tried again and again, working things out, making notes, memorising what each lever did.

By the time they thought they had the final system worked out, they were so tired that Ray hardly thought it would work - so when they pulled the last lever, and the weight finally dropped onto the scales, for a moment they could only stare, unsure how to take it in.

Then, with the creaking groan, the enormous stone doors swung open, revealing a large curtain behind it, with one final rope to pull it aside.

Michael had been sitting on a rock nearby, watching them. He sprang up now, walking over, face tilted up to stare at the curtain in awe.

“We did it!” Gavin cried, his voice cracking with excitement. “We actually did it! Holy shit!”

He raised his hands, and Ray stared at him a moment before realising he wanted to high five. With a laugh, he clapped his hands to Gavin’s. By this point the other man had worked himself into a fit of great excitement. He danced around in a circle, high fived Michael, high faved Ray _again,_ and then yanked him into a hug.

“Okay,” Ray grunted, but laughed and hugged him back, because they’d been working on that damn thing for so long he was pretty sure he was gonna have dreams about it, and even if he didn’t really show it, a slow elation was building in his own chest.

Gavin released him and turned to hug Michael - leaping at him and wrapping his entire arms and legs about him, like a very enthusiastic squid. Michael laughed and caught him easily.

“Top work, lads!” Gavin cried. Michael put him down and he declared, “I’m so excited that I’m going to do a backflip!”

“Would that we could all express our joy in such an acrobatic manner,” Ray muttered, but laughed when Gavin promptly _did one_. Michael moved forward.

“Careful,” he said, a sharp edge of worry in his voice. “The floor’s stone, don’t fall and hit your head.”

“I never fall, Michael,” Gavin said, happily. Michael had reached out and cupped the back of his head, holding his hand there for a moment before letting it drop. Ray started to look away - but Michael caught his eye, and suddenly smiled. He smiled tentatively back, and then out of sheer awkwardness shot Michael a thumbs up. Michael barked out a little laugh, shaking his head as he turned away.

Gavin didn’t seem to notice. He rushed up to the curtains and paused.

“Ray, you do the honours,” he said.

They all moved up eagerly, and Ray reached out and pulled the rope, apprehensive. The curtain fell away, and they froze.

In a small alcove behind the doors stood a massive tower - five enormous cubes, with dimensions of at least two feet, stacked atop each other. The bottom one was black, the ones above a sparkling gold. In the firelight they seemed to shimmer.

“Gods,” Gavin breathed out, awestruck. He clambered up into the alcove, inching closer - and then let out an indignant yell. “Hey! This is fake!”

“What?”

“It’s not gold! It’s just painted stone.” He ran a hand down the side of the tower, and his shoulders slumped. “Here I thought we’d uncovered treasure of some sort. But this is literally just rock with, what, some colour slathered over it? I might as well put my bloody shoe up here.” He planted his boot against the side of the tower, the last shreds of its own gold paint glinting. “What a damn letdown.”

“It’s still pretty fucking weird, though,” Michael pointed out. “What is this thing meant to be? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m so bummed out,” Gavin informed them, leaping back down to the ground with a sigh. “Why go to so much trouble making that puzzle just to hide some rocks?”

“Gods know,” Ray said, and sighed. “Well. Report back to the others, then?”

Gavin stared up at the tower for a long moment.

“You know what,” he said, slowly, “You two should go back. I’ll keep looking around here for a bit, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Shouldn’t we all stick together?” Michael asked.

Gavin shook his head.

“No sense keeping Jack hanging around alone for longer than we need to. I’ll be fine - I can control everything in the Wild, right?”

“Not the beasts,” Michael argued. “How about you and I stay here and look around a bit more? If something attacks we’ll stand a better chance fighting it together.”

Ray’s stomach sank.

Oh, it’d been nice working together, hadn’t it? Reminiscing on their childhood, sharing little smiles - fuck it, fuck it _all_ , how could he have been so _stupid_ as to get his hopes up? Of course Michael still didn’t want to be alone with him. Of course it was still _awkward_ , when Gavin wasn’t with them.

“No,” Gavin replied. “I think you and Ray should go together.”

“Leave it, Gavin. Can’t you see he obviously doesn’t want to?” Ray snapped. Michael glanced at him, and opened his mouth, but Ray shook his head and scoffed. “Well, guess what, I sure as fucking hell don’t want to go with him either.”

Michael’s face shuttered over.

“How about you stay here with Gavin, then,” he snapped. “And I’ll go back on my own.”

“That’s fine with me!”

“Good,” Michael said, and turned on his heel and marched off. Ray clenched his fists, glaring after him.

“Asshole,” he hissed, and kicked at the stone wall next to him.

“Ray,” Gavin said softly - Ray didn’t look up, but in the corner of his eye saw him step closer. “I don’t think he meant it like that.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, I mean it,” Gavin insisted, voice quiet but firm. “I know it’s hard for you to see, after everything that’s happened these last six months. But from an outsider-”

“From an _outsider_ , you don’t _fucking understand_ ,” Ray snapped. “He hates me-”

“Has he ever said that?” Gavin cut in. “Has he ever _said it_ , and I don’t mean in the middle of an argument when you’re _both_ shouting and swearing at each other. Has he ever done something that showed it?”

There was a tense silence. Ray could only glare at him, helpless, _furious_.

“Has he ever told you, straight out, that he doesn’t love you and he’s never gonna love you?” Gavin asked.

Ray flinched.

“Stop it,” he croaked out. “Stop, don’t… don’t say shit like that. I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, Free, what you’re trying to do, but don’t you dare try and give me _hope_. Not after all this. Not given how we are now. It’s up to Michael, not me.”

“How can Michael make a proper decision when he thinks you hate him too?” Gavin pointed out.

“I don’t hate him.”

“Does he know that?”

“Just _stop_ ,” Ray pleaded, and it came out pained, not angry. Gavin shut his mouth and looked away. There was an awful, silent pause, and Ray closed his eyes, feeling suddenly claustrophobic, down here in this musty underground space with the tingling sensation of magic pressing in against every corner of his mind - with how, if he focused, he could feel Michael’s burning anger and pain against his heart.

He took a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes Gavin was looking away.

“Let’s go then,” Ray said, voice flat and very clear that he wasn’t about to continue their previous conversation. Gavin nodded, silently, and let him lead the way out of the room.

 

* * *

 

In the moments in which Geoff was certain that he was going to die, he had three main regrets. He regretted not asking Jack to marry him properly, in some nicer moment - not letting him know that not only did he love him, but that he’d wanted to spend the entire rest of his life with him - giving him that one happy memory. He regretted, in a fleeting flash, not somehow reconciling with Gavin - and mostly, _mostly_ he regretted coming into this _fucking temple_ in the first place. Seriously - who thought this was a good idea again? The place was covered in black spikes and full of dead people’s faces. Should’ve turned and walked right out of there as soon as they realised what a fucking creepy shithole it was.

As the walls closed in he dropped to the ground, curling up and covering his head with his arms, like that would somehow help. He could still hear the scrape of the golems’ feet against the ground as they tried futilely to stop the walls moving.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement - then Ryan crouched next to him, planting both palms flat to the floor.

“Watch out,” Ryan yelled, over the scrape of stone on stone. “This’ll get hot.”

“What are you doing?” Geoff cried, only to squeeze his eyes shut as there was a sudden flash of red light. He felt the ground heat under them, and quickly rose to his feet, cracking his eyes open as much as he could against the pain of the sudden brightness.

Redstone was spreading from Ryan’s palms, blazing brightly as it crept in streams up the walls, stretching out to cover the entire floor and the spiked panels closing in on them. Before Geoff’s eyes, the entire pit began to shine ruby, and slowly the walls came to a grinding halt as Ryan transfigured them into redstone. Silence fell - and the glowing redstone dimmed down as Ryan rose to his feet, panting. Geoff stared around - and realised, then, that they were safe, that the trap was stopped.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, and Ryan turned to him.

“Well, there’s the benefit of everything being built out of stone,” he said.

“Fuck, we’re alive,” Geoff replied. His heart was racing; he felt oddly out of breath. “We’re alive - you did it!”

Ryan looked tired, drained from the effort of creating so much redstone, so quickly - but he shook himself.

“No need to panic,” he scoffed. “Such a fuss over nothing.”

“Oh, come on!” Geoff said, indignantly. “You were shitting yourself too.”

Ryan just raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed completely unfazed, and suddenly Geoff felt rather silly for panicking.

“I don’t intend to die in a hole like this,” Ryan informed him. “Now let’s get out of here - we’ve wasted too much time already.”

He gestured to his golems, and one of them lifted him easily up onto its shoulders. The pit wasn’t too deep, and with the golem’s help he easily reached the top of the wall and was able to climb back out into the corridor. Geoff held up the torch, keeping things lit. Once Ryan was up, the golem turned to him. He hesitated - but it stared at him blankly.

“It’s just a machine,” Ryan said from above - not unkindly. “Unless you’d rather stay down there forever.”

“Alright, give me a second,” Geoff grumbled. He stepped forward and let the golem give him a boost up. The wall was slick and shiny now that it’d been turned into redstone, and he struggled to pull himself up, even with the golem holding him firmly around the waist. After a moment, Ryan stretched a hand down, and Geoff clasped it tightly. Ryan pulled him up out of the pit with surprising ease - he was a tall man, imposing, but Geoff had never realised just how strong he was before. As he hauled himself back out to safety, he paused, slumping over and catching his breath. When Ryan let go, the warm pressure of where he’d gripped Geoff’s upper arms lingered for a moment.

“All good?” Ryan asked. Geoff looked up and met his eyes. He froze, finding him so close - then nodded, mutely.

“Yeah,” he said, and cleared his throat awkwardly a few times. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Excellent.” Ryan rose to his feet, and took the torch from him. “Then let’s get going.”

The golems were helping each other out of the pit. They led the way down the corridor now, in case any other traps should activate. Geoff was so shaken by the near-death experience that he was too exhausted and distracted to worry what else might be in the dark, still processing the relief that they _hadn’t_ died in that last trap. He trudged numbly after the golems, and before he knew it, they were emerging into another chamber - he froze, taking it in.

“Wow,” he murmured. “No wonder they had traps to stop people from breaking in.”

“What is it?” Ryan asked. He emerged next to Geoff, and paused. “Oh.”

It seemed that this hidden chamber was some sort of treasury. It was an expansive room, lined with shelves piled high with gold goblets and plates, enormous stacks of gold bars, sparkling pots of gems and ornate statues of the gods. There were huge chests lining the walls, and when Geoff moved forward and opened one of them, it was to find it filled with millions of gold coins. The metal glimmered prettily in the redstone light - clearly it was the real deal.

“Holy shit,” Geoff breathed out. “I mean, our cathedrals have some nice things in them, but this is something else. Gavin’s fucking _loaded_ with this stuff.”

“Finders keepers,” Ryan muttered immediately, and Geoff spun around to look at him.

“You’re not serious?” he demanded. “You’re not gonna _rob_ him?”

“Is it really robbery? He is not descended from any family line that owns this treasure,” Ryan pointed out, snidely. “But no, since you’re so concerned - I’m not going to stuff my pockets with this and try to hide it from him. How could I transport all this back to the Stoneworld without him realising? But, you know… why tell him it’s here?”

There was something faintly mocking in his tone. It made it hard for Geoff to tell whether he was joking or not.

“This is _his_ ,” he couldn’t help insisting. “He’s king of the Wild. Everything here belongs to him. You can’t just take it.”

“Free won this throne by trickery,” Ryan replied, and sighed. “Fine, I won’t _take_ it - but why do him the favour of telling him what riches he is sitting on? What will he do with all this, anyway? Use it to furnish his castle? There is nothing for him to _buy_ with it - unless you intend to trade with him.”

Geoff bit his lip. He wasn’t sure why he was defending Gavin, here - he shouldn’t care, right?

“Of course,” Ryan continued, sneering, “If you wish to _reward_ him for what he did to both of us, be my guest. Make the fool rich.”

“We should be looking for clues about the beast,” Geoff snapped, uncomfortable. “That’s what we’re fucking here for. Wherever they came from, it wasn’t these temples. There’s no sign of anything living in here.”

Ryan turned away to continue looking through the room, and Geoff did too, but all he could see were the sparkling, precious treasures. They worked in an awkward silence for some minutes, before Ryan called out to him.

“There’s something on this back wall here,” he said.

Geoff came up next to him. Ryan was holding up the redstone torch. Against the back wall of the treasury there seemed to be some image painted on the wall - it was mostly covered by a shelf filled with priceless looking vases stuffed to the brim with glittering emeralds. Ryan motioned for the golems to push it aside - and a painted mural was uncovered, the two of them crowding in to look.

“It’s a story,” Geoff breathed out, eyes tracing over the images. They were beautifully painted - the colour hadn’t faded at all, sealed off from the elements as this room was - vibrant and intricately detailed figures.

Some sort of tower of golden blocks featured prominently in the first image - painted in shimmering gold paint that nearly looked real. Four gold blocks upon one black - next, a human figure came up and touched the tower, and a dazzle of light flew from it. The rest of the story was very familiar - everything the king touched turned to gold, and spanning across the rest of the wall was a world slowly becoming absorbed by the precious metal, mountains of riches piling up, animals and trees alike becoming statues under his touch.

Ryan’s finger traced across the story before it fell on the last panel - the king falling away into what looked like some sort of squarish, dark portal.

“Your favourite myth,” he murmured, and let his hand fall, turning to Geoff. “But this isn’t how I remember the story going. The gods gave him the power. Here, it looks like it was that tower - whatever it is. And I don’t remember him being cast into a hole like this at the end.”

“Why is this in here?” Geoff asked, staring at the painting - then looking around at the golden treasures of the room. “Did they… did they believe the story was true, that he made all this?”

“Who knows,” Ryan replied. He was preoccupied with taking a leatherbound book from his bag, and then a stick of charcoal, with which he began copying down the images. Geoff watched him in silence, his pencil making deft marks across the page.

“Intriguing,” Ryan murmured finally, as he put the finishing touches on his quick sketch. “Was he a king with a gift? But what crown…”

He snapped his book shut and looked up. Geoff was right next to him, had been peering at his drawing - their eyes met, faces far too close, before Ryan stepped back and busied himself putting his book away.

“No thanks for saving your life back there?” he asked suddenly.

“You saved your own life,” Geoff pointed out, a little startled. “You were in that pit too. You could hardly have _not_ saved my life.”

Ryan looked up at him with a small frown.

“I’ll remember this ingratitude next time I’m in a position to help you with something,” he said coldly, and turned away.

Geoff stared at him, a bit surprised by how genuinely annoyed he’d seemed. He’d thought hostility was par for the course with them - but there was no need for him to be an asshole, really, not now when they needed each other’s help.

“Wait,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

It came out more easily than he’d expected. Ryan turned back to him, and scoffed.

“And there’s the bare minimum,” he said, but sighed. “In all honesty, I do not wish you dead, Ramsey. In fact, I’m rather glad you defeated Nutt. From what I know of the man, he would have been even more obnoxious and troublesome than you.”

Geoff snorted, but while he once might’ve been offended by Ryan’s words, he could tell now that they weren’t meant all that seriously. He wasn’t sure when he’d started to notice that - or, conversely, when that’d started to be true.

Still - the conversation had him remembering, suddenly, what it’d been like to nearly feel _Ryan_ die - something colder and more sombre settled over him suddenly.

“For what it’s worth,” he found himself saying, “I’m glad you’re not dead too. I mean - despite your plans for an heir, there would’ve been instability.”

Ryan’s lips twitched.

“Well then,” he said. “It seems it’s in our best interests to keep each other alive for now.”

“And Ray and Michael, too,” Geoff added.

Ryan flapped a hand dismissively.

“Well, Free can kick it. I don’t care. It would create an _opportunity_.”

“You don’t mean that,” Geoff said softly, a little alarmed by the sudden venom in Ryan’s voice. His previous amusement had vanished, and when he met Geoff’s gaze, his eyes were cold.

“You think I don’t wish him dead for what he did to me?”

“Death is a bit harsh,” Geoff murmured. And then, “What _did_ he do to you? I saw the two of you got close, but…”

He trailed off - genuinely curious - but Ryan’s face had shuttered over even more, now.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, curtly. And then, in the silence that followed, “He manipulated me.”

Geoff stared at him - wondering, wondering - what had happened between them? He’d never had the chance to find out. All he knew was they’d gotten close - unexpectedly, _intimately_ close, given Ryan’s reaction. But there was something funnily secret now, about Ryan’s hunched shoulders and defensive look.

“Into… liking him?” he asked, tentatively, and Ryan scowled at him.

“What does it matter?” he sneered.

“He gave you a favour.” Ryan’s reaction to that statement was telling - he jerked, eyes widening, a far cry from his usual, stone-faced control, and when he didn’t answer, Geoff blinked incredulously at him. “You thought you loved him?”

“Mind your own fucking business, Ramsey,” Ryan snapped, viciously. “Like you didn’t think you loved him too! I _trusted_ him - that means more than _love_. I thought we could work together, I… I thought he _meant_ to work together. But he didn’t - he turned on both of us. So laugh all you fucking want - we’re both losers here. It hardly matters now. Once this threat is dealt with, we won’t need him any more.”

There was something too defensive in it. Geoff could only stare - truth be told, he’d been so wrapped up in his own hurt these last eight months that he hadn’t given much thought to what’d happened between Gavin and Ryan. It had clearly been far more significant than he’d paid attention to.

“Why?” he asked, softly. “Why did you trust him so fast? I… at the time I was worried. I thought _you_ would be the one manipulating _him_ \- from what he said at the end, there, it seemed like he thought that, too.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. He stared up at the ceiling, and for a while Geoff thought he wasn't going to answer. But after a moment he ground out, reluctantly:  
  
“We found… _commonalities_.”

“Between you and Gavin?” Geoff asked, incredulously. “What…”

“You could never possibly understand,” Ryan spat, “What it’s like to… to feel alone. To not know how to trust. To have been _wronged_ \- what do you know of it? We are both royalty,” he said, and gestured furiously between them. “But we have had vastly different upbringings.”

“Of course we have,” Geoff replied, automatically. “You-”

“I _what?”_ Ryan challenged, and barked out a harsh laugh. “Gods, Geoff. You infuriate me sometimes. Do you think I went to some sort of evil villain school to learn how to be the _Mad King?_ Do you think I spend my time gleefully executing people left, right and centre for so much as looking at me the wrong way? Do you think I killed my own mother in cold blood for the fucking _fun_ of it? Because I _wanted_ to rule?”

There was a raw desperation in his voice, and for the life of him Geoff couldn’t tell how he’d triggered this sudden outburst - except that Ryan clearly wasn’t hiding, anymore, whatever anger had been building up in him all along, that Geoff had seen simmering under the surface but never _understood_ \- not until now.

“So you did do it,” was all he could manage to say, and Ryan rounded on him, practically exploding, his voice rising loud and echoing throughout the stone chamber.

“ _Yes,_ Geoff! Yes, I killed her! I killed my own fucking mother! I poisoned her. I made it look like an assassination - I watched the life leave her eyes. I _mourned_ her - that wasn’t fake. Do you think I _wanted_ to do it?”

He’d moved in very close, but Geoff stood frozen, unable to move - staring up into Ryan’s red-rimmed eyes. Ryan stared back for a moment, his gaze intense and terrifying - before abruptly spinning away.

“I had no other choice,” he spat. “For days, _weeks_ , I obsessed over whether it was the right thing to do. But she just kept _killing,_ she kept doing what my ancestors have done for so long. People were dying - what else could I do? She would never abdicate. There was no _changing_ her.”

He stared down at his hands, turned away with his shoulders hunched - Geoff could only stand helpless, watching him. Unsure what to say.

“I hate her.” Ryan’s voice had faltered into a rough whisper, now. Somehow that was harder to hear, had more pain in it than even his shouting had. “For what she did. For what she made _me_ do.”

Geoff didn’t know what to do. He stood there, staring at Ryan - unsure if he was upset, or angry, if he’d ruined the way they’d almost been getting along just then - but when Ryan looked up, he started laughing.

“Remember, she wanted me to kill you?” he asked. “We could be married right now. Maybe you’d be dead, and I’d rule the Plains, if her plan had worked. Or maybe, maybe, we’d’ve overthrown her together.”

Geoff stared at him, unable to imagine it - it’d been so long ago.

“Or maybe,” Ryan continued, and there was a funny tightness in his voice now, “When I came to visit you in the Plains that first time, we might’ve become friends and planned together how to stop her. Maybe your father could’ve helped. I would have been on your side, if it’d come to that.”

“I don’t…” Geoff trailed off, unsure - unable to believe it. Gods, he’d never _imagined_ that Ryan might’ve been on their side against Queen Haywood - even after the rumours began that he’d murdered her, he’d kept such a tight grip on his kingdom that they hadn’t dared see him as a potential ally.

“Who knows,” Ryan said mockingly, and shrugged. “There are so many points in our lives when things might’ve gone differently. Maybe _Gavin_ might never have taken the crown if I hadn’t trusted him. Or if you’d _loved_ him more, _shown_ him that you did-”

“Fuck you,” Geoff snapped - Ryan’s tone had switched, clearly aiming to hurt, now. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Why not?” Ryan sneered. “It’s the truth. And I’m apparently being _very_ truthful right now.”

That last part came out a little too vulnerably. Suddenly Geoff felt overwhelmed - felt _terrible_ for how quickly he’d jumped down Ryan’s throat about his mother, about everything else. Seeing him so upset, now… maybe he’d just matured since the last time they were together. Maybe war and time and Gavin had changed him. But he could see suddenly, clearly, that last time he’d been wrong. That Ryan wasn’t the shadowy, wicked king he’d built him up in his mind to be.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Your pity means nothing,” Ryan snapped immediately.

“It’s not pity,” Geoff said, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you, during the games.” He paused, swallowing hard. “Jack is… adamant… that your kingdom is better off for you taking the crown. I can’t say he’s wrong. And, you know… if it’s a choice between you or your mother…”

He motioned like he was weighing up between two scales, one of them coming up on top. Ryan stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, his face relaxed, just a little. He snorted.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” he asked. He sounded tired, now, drained - but not as angry as before.

“Take it as one,” Geoff advised, and Ryan scoffed before shrugging and looking away. He ran a hand over his face, and when he turned back his face was blank, clearly not wanting to talk about this any more.

“For a long time,” he said instead, “I had no heir. After that assassination attempt, I appointed Mica. You know, when you nearly die, you realise a lot of things. Like how much you have to lose. Or how little.”

“I was worried,” Geoff found himself admitting. “When that happened. I don’t seek your death, Ryan, no matter how we’ve both acted in the past.”

“Clearly,” Ryan replied, and his lips twitched suddenly. “After all, you don’t know - Mica might be _much_ scarier than I am.”

Geoff snorted.

“Somehow I doubt it,” he replied, but couldn’t help his own relieved grin to hear Ryan _joking_ again. Gods, when had he realised the other man did that - that he _preferred_ it, that genuine, teasing tone, compared to all Ryan’s other mocking sarcasm?

Suddenly he had no idea what he thought of the other man anymore. Because he couldn’t be heartless - not after that startlingly emotional display - not if he had, indeed, fallen for Gavin. _Gavin_ , who Geoff knew so intimately - he’d seen too many people treat the young man badly, knew that it took a certain sort to appreciate him. So for Ryan to have actually come to like him, to _love_ him, even…

It made him see him in a different light.

Maybe Gavin hadn’t trusted him - that was why he’d left, and fair enough, given how Ryan acted sometimes. But looking at him now, somehow Geoff didn’t think he was lying for sympathy. If anything, it seemed like sympathy was the last thing he wanted.

And there had been an animosity between them in the past, yes - but that was all after that first contact as teenagers. A time when, Geoff was ashamed to realise now, he hadn’t exactly been friendly to Ryan first. Their families were set against each other, and that’d added to it - but his father wasn't here anymore. Ryan’s mother wasn’t. They were their own people, and the connection he had to Ryan through the crown bond, to _all_ the others, was so much stronger than he’d ever felt with any of the other, older rulers. He wasn't sure what to think of it - wasn’t sure if it was normal. All he knew was that it was _there_.

Ryan was standing, studying the painted wall again with an intensity to his face that made Geoff pause. He thought of him working on the golems alone down in his lab, or experimenting on the beast’s dust - wondered if he got that same serious look, chewed at his lip the way he was doing now.

He was human just like the rest of them, he realised - there was a lot more to him than Geoff had ever known.

He shook himself.

“Shall we go back?” he asked, quietly, suddenly exhausted - needing to get out of here, to have some time to think and process. To talk to Jack.

Ryan turned around too. His face was unreadable, and after the absolute mess of emotions that’d just played out in this room, it was disorienting to find him suddenly blank again.

“Yes,” he replied, and held out an arm, gesturing for Geoff to go first. “Let’s go. Jack will be waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My playlist](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/what-we-choose) for Michael and Ray in this series <3
> 
> And some more fanart, thank you so much guys, this is so fab!
> 
> [Where The Lost Go cover](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/147755798229/greatahw-excuse-my-lateness-ive-been-meaning) by greatahw
> 
> [The Wild King](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/147471666584/grumpy-nature-i-really-love-the-amazing-fanfics) by grumpy-nature


	7. Chapter 7

Jack looked up as the snap of twigs underfoot alerted him to someone approaching. His hand went immediately to his sword, uneasy. Sitting here alone in the Wild had been a little frightening at first, but quickly grew boring – now, at the hint of something approaching, his previous worries shot back in, and he got to his feet slowly, readying himself to fight if something should approach.

Beside him, four draugr and the band of golems that Ryan had left moved up next to him, alert. That was slightly reassuring.

But it was just Michael who emerged from the trees. The mobs relaxed – but Jack's relief quickly faded as he realised the other man was alone.

_No_ , was the only thing he could think – horror flooding him at the possibility that something had happened to Gavin – he'd never have known, he couldn't feel it like the others could-

“Michael?” he called out. The other man's head snapped up. “What happened? Where are the others? Did something...”

He trailed off, unable to even voice the possibility – but Michael shook his head, and as he got closer Jack realised that he didn't look upset or scared – just annoyed.

“They're fine,” he snapped, and strode past Jack, marching over to plonk himself angrily down on the ground by their campfire. “Nothing happened.”

“Where are they?” Jack asked, coming up and hovering over him. Michael was scowling, and had now picked up a stray stick and was stabbing furiously at the dirt. Apparently his idea of anger management was digging a fucking hole.

“Gavin wanted to look around more. Ray hates me, so he's decided to go with him. They'll be back soon.”

Jack's shoulders slumped, heart still pounding, but relieved now that he knew the others were okay. He could've laughed – he'd never been so glad for Michael and Ray's petty dramas to be the cause of things. With a sigh, he wandered over and sat down opposite Michael. The other man didn't look up, still working the stick methodically into the ground.

“Well, Geoff and Ryan still aren't back yet,” Jack said. His lips twitched a little at the thought of the two men off together. He could only hope they weren't fighting – but somehow, he couldn't help but think they might work together better than they expected. Wouldn't that annoy Geoff to no end. “Did you guys find anything?”

Michael just shrugged.

“Gavin's got all that shit in his bag,” he grunted, and fell silent again. Clearly he was too pissed off to be cooperative, and Jack sighed. _Time to play relationship counsellor again, apparently._

“What happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Michael grumbled, without looking up.

“What happened,” Jack repeated, patiently. “Why’d you fight?”

Michael's shoulders hunched up. He stabbed viciously at the dirt, so hard the twig snapped in his hands. He cursed, tossing it aside angrily.

“Nothing,” he snapped. “It wasn't a fight. He just hates me!”

He threw up his hands and shrugged, but the hurt in his voice was clear, and Jack sighed again.

“That's not true,” he said. “You know it's not true.”

“Oh, it's true,” Michael assured him. “How could I not know by now? I've been doing this shit for six fucking months, Jack. You weren't there. You haven't seen.”

“Come on,” Jack chided, and Michael finally looked up at him with a scowl.

“Come on _what_?” he demanded. “He fucking said it himself, he doesn't want to be around me! He takes everything I do personally and he just – he _hates_ me, he wants this to end as much as I do-”

“Maybe because _both_ of you are always winding each other up,” Jack pointed out – sternly, but not unkindly. “I doubt you want to be around him either. But it's not because _you_ hate him.”

Michael looked away for a long moment, and Jack could see him struggling to compose himself. When he spoke again his voice was thick, upset.

“I can't give him what he wants,” he admitted, and shook his head. “Or I... I thought I couldn't. Gavin said some shit, made me think about some things, but I... I don't even have time to figure it out, because whenever I'm with him, we just fight all the time!”

He threw his hands up, in frustration now.

“Today,” he said, “There were moments I thought I could... I don't know. But as usual, it all fell apart.”

There was an unhappy silence. Michael turned away again, seeming awkward now, as though he'd revealed too much. Jack let him have a moment – but he was clearly still angry, picking up another sharp stick from the ground and stabbing around. After a moment, an enormous centipede crawled up out of one of the holes he'd dug – Jack recoiled, but Michael just glanced at the creature and then stabbed it with his stick with such relish that it made Jack nearly gag.

“Fucking hell, Michael,” he said, and let out a nervous laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“It's just a bug,” Michael said sourly.

Jack huffed out a breath.

“Ray's scared,” he advised. “He's the only one who's admitted his feelings – the only one who's made himself vulnerable here. That has to be terrifying, don't you think? So if he gets angry, it's a self-defence mechanism, a way of trying to make you think he doesn't care. Stops him being humiliated, stops him being hurt – except it backfires, because he _does_ still care, and now there's a rift between you two that's only making both of you feel even worse.”

Michael didn't meet his eyes, but he'd fallen still, and Jack knew he was listening.

“I know it's hard,” he continued. “I know it's unfair, but sometimes you just have to be the one to make the first move – otherwise, no one ever will. Show him that you still care, and he might show that he does too. Even if you do figure that you can only ever love him as a friend or a brother – it's better than this, it has to be. If you don't mean the things _you've_ been saying to him, odds are, he doesn't either.”

Michael processed this in silence. After a time, he sighed.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “You're lucky it all worked out with you and Geoff.”

“But not with Gavin,” Jack pointed out, and swallowed, hard. “So I get it, Michael, I really do.”

“That's different.”

“Not all that different,” Jack replied, but bit his lip and added, with a sudden sureness, “But I'm not going to lose him again. I won't let that happen. And I'll do whatever I have to to make sure it doesn't.”

Michael glanced up at him in surprise.

“But what about Geoff?” he asked. “He's still so angry – don't _all_ of you have to agree on something like that?”

“Yeah,” Jack admitted, and scoffed out a laugh. “And that'll be the hard part. That and not knowing how Gavin's feeling, if he still wants this after all that happened. But all I can do is try.”

He trailed off with a shrug. Michael was staring at him, something thoughtful in it. After a moment, he shook himself.

“At least you have that sureness,” he murmured. “You know you love him. Me, I... I'm _not_ sure.”

That implied it could go either way, Jack realised – if anything, _that_ was a step in the right direction. But he wasn't about to point it out, if Michael even realised it himself.

“Well, the first step for you is healing _this_ ,” he pointed out. “Be the bigger man, for both your sakes. Don't let him wind you up. You don't want him to think that you hate him, right? So show him that you want to _try_ , here. Don't let him put you off – he doesn't mean what he's doing. Or neither of you will get anywhere – things will only get worse.”

Michael didn't answer, but he looked thoughtful, and Jack could only regard him with a funny sort of fondness. He hadn't had much time to spend around Michael, to get to know him or get close to him – but he'd seen the other man from afar, and what he'd seen, he liked. In most matters Michael was simple – straightforward, no drama. This situation with Ray was the one unfortunate complication he'd managed to get tangled up in.

But he was kind – especially considering he was a king. Jack liked that about him. He liked how he'd treated Gavin, and he liked how he'd conducted himself during the games. Something about him reminded him of Geoff, when he'd been younger and even more reckless than he was now.

And somehow – as with Ryan, and Ray – Jack couldn't help feeling an odd urge to get closer to him – to get to know him better. He knew it was probably wholly inappropriate, considering they were of a higher status than him, and from different kingdoms besides. But there was just something likeable about Michael, something that made him want to be around him more.

Still – he shook it off. For now, the younger man had more than enough on his plate. But Jack would help him, if he could, and he settled down to wait with him in a companionable silence for the others to return. Even if they didn't talk, after being left behind earlier, it was nice not to be alone.

 

* * *

 

“No one is allowed to complain about my stew,” Gavin informed them all around the campfire that night. Jack looked up, and realised that his eyes were fixed on Geoff - who had pulled a rather questionable face upon taking a taste of the dinner Gavin had prepared for them.

“Because I ate insects at one point,” Gavin continued, “And nothing can compare to that. To be fair, that was just one very low point at the beginning when we first came into the Wild, before we realised where all the fruits and shit are. We found this big grub and were like, well why not, we have nothing else to eat.”

“You’re telling this story,” Jack replied with a smile, “But I feel like it went more along the lines of, _Dan, I dare you to eat that bug_ , and of course he couldn’t say no.”

Gavin grinned at him from across the fire, eyes sparkling mischievously. Since this trip had started Jack hadn’t been able to stop looking at him, just revelling in _seeing_ him again. Being around him.

“Dan can’t say no to anything I ask,” he replied, and shrugged. “Guess I’m just very charismatic.”

Jack laughed, but his chest ached. Gods, he missed Gavin so much. They’d ended up on opposite sides of the fire - he wished they were closer, close enough to touch. Gavin was between Michael and Ray, who hadn’t spoken since everyone got back. Then again, they hadn’t fought either. Was that called progress? Who fucking knew at this point.

“Can we get onto some actual relevant discussions of our findings?” Ryan asked drily. He was sitting on Jack’s other side - both he and Geoff had been quiet since returning.

“Yes!” Gavin cried, laying his bowl aside and shifting around to grab his bag. He pulled out the stone tablets that he’d told them about earlier, and laid them out - everyone else shuffling around so they could see.

“We found these,” he announced. “Not sure what they are. There was also this weird tower thing - just painted stone cubes, but it must be important because they had a whole puzzle you had to solve before you could see it.”

Geoff and Ryan glanced at each other.

“Four gold blocks on top of a black one?” Geoff asked.

“Yes!” Gavin cried, excitedly. “How’d you know?”

“We found an image of it in a big painting, in a room full of treasure in one of the temples,” Geoff replied. Then added, in a mutter, “Which, speaking of, I guess you’re rich now.”

“What painting was this?” Gavin asked, not seeming to register the rest.

“Ryan sketched it down,” Geoff said, and they all moved to huddle around Ryan’s notebook instead.

“It’s the story of that king,” Gavin murmured.

“Midas,” Michael added. They all glanced up at him, and he shrugged. “Or that’s what we call him in the Alps. I heard he was just nameless in your tales - or at least in the Desert version.”

“You have this story too?” Ryan asked, slowly.

“Everyone has that story,” Ray replied.

“Why?” Ryan asked, a funny note in his voice. They all stared at him, but he was looking down at his picture. “The same gods, the same stories… all over the land. _Why?_ Our biomes are distinct, our histories, our cultures. I don’t know as many - perhaps the Stoneworld has forgotten. But all the rest of you, and now the ancient people of the Wild… the same myths. It seems unlikely.”

“Because they’re true,” Gavin said ominously. And then, when everyone turned to him, “I was joking, but that might actually be a possibility. Or at least, based on something true - something that happened that everyone knew about?”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence.

“This thing,” Michael said, pointing to the bottom of the sketch, at the funny square of darkness Midas fell into at the end of the mural. “It’s the same as one of the pictures we found.”

They turned back to the painted tablets.

“We have to put them in the right order, but I’m not sure what they’re trying to say,” Gavin said. “My current theory is that this portal thing is where the Endermen came from. The people were afraid, and began hunting them. But then I’m not sure what that eyeball thing is. Maybe it’s symbolic of how they watch over the land and can see into your conscience?”

“That’s clever,” Jack said, and Gavin glanced at him and gave a mock bow.

“It’s not an eyeball,” Ryan murmured, leaning in for a closer look. “What’s in an Enderman that’s big and round?”

There was a silence as they waited for him to inform them, but he didn’t. Finally he looked up expectantly.

“Are you not gonna tell us?” Michael demanded.

“I’m trying to fucking teach you something here. Let you come to the conclusion on your own. It’s called education, clearly none of you have heard of it,” Ryan snapped. He caught Gavin’s eye, seemingly by accident - but Gavin raised a hand.

“Oh! Oh, you mean the Ender pearls?” 

“Precisely,” Ryan replied. Gavin’s brows furrowed.

“They don’t look like that, though - they don’t have the eye pattern.”

“What’s an Ender pearl?” Geoff asked.

“A part of the Endermen’s anatomy. The thing that lets them teleport. It’s in their chest,” Ryan explained, “And if you manage to extract it whole, you can use it to teleport yourself - once only. But Free is right, that’s not what they look like - or at least, not at first. I’ve experimented with them in my lab, and that included burning them to see what would happen. If you add fire, they look like that - they get the eye pattern. And when you throw them, instead of teleporting, they fly up into the air and travel some distance before falling again. I couldn’t make sense of it. I figured fire just damaged them and stopped the teleport working. But based on these tablets, I’m assuming it does something else we just haven’t figured out yet.”

“Maybe Gav has to do it,” Michael piped up. “Since he’s the Wild king, maybe whatever happens only works for him.”

Ryan turned to Michael, who stared up at him almost defensively.

“What? Was that a dumb comment?”

“No,” Ryan replied, slowly. “It’s rather clever actually. That makes sense.”

Michael looked taken aback - then oddly flustered. He didn’t seem to know what to say, and turned away, shovelling the last of his stew into his mouth. Jack glanced at Ryan in amusement before leaning forward and pointing at the picture of the portal.

“So that means this is either the first or the last frame. First if Gavin’s right and it’s where the Endermen came out of-”

“Or last, and it’s what this flying eyeball leads us to,” Geoff finished.

“It’s the pit the Gold king fell into,” Gavin muttered. “Or maybe it’s not a pit… I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out!”

“So they could be instructions on how to get to this thing,” Ryan murmured. “What’s in there? The tower?”

No one had an answer to that. They fell silent, staring down at the tablets pensively. After a time, Gavin stirred.

“Do you need Ender pearls?” he asked. “I can kill some Endermen and get them for you.”

“Do you run out of mobs?” Jack asked curiously. Even if he knew they weren’t sentient, like regular animals, it still felt unsettling to think of Gavin mercilessly slaughtering his subjects like that.

But Gavin shook his head.

“No, they ‘respawn’ at certain points in caves throughout the Wild. Whenever one dies, I feel it form again about an hour later. But still - I don’t like to kill them if I don’t have to. I have a weird fear that one day they’ll respawn and I won’t be able to control them. It’s stupid, because I can feel I still have the gift as long as I have the crown - but everyone’s been raised to fear the Wild, I suppose. Instinct is hard to let go of.”

This last part was murmured so softly they could barely hear it, and his eyes darted to Ryan - who didn’t notice, still staring down at the tablets. By the time he did look up, Gavin had schooled his face into an expectant stare.

“There’s no need,” Ryan replied. “I have plenty back at my lab. I’ll send a golem to get them.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gavin said, and clapped his hands together. “Well! Off we go to investigate this _ominous square of darkness!_ How tremendously exciting. No mention of the beasts - or the crowns, even - but hopefully this can lead us to some answers.”

Michael had taken up Ryan’s notebook and was staring intently at the tower.

“This thing,” he said slowly. “It gave him the gift in the picture you found.”

“Yes,” Ryan replied, “Why?”

Michael shrugged and put the notebook down.

“Just an interesting story, that’s all,” he said. “I mean, he’s the main figure we all hear about… there are other stories about people with powers similar to the gifts, but he’s the big one. King Midas.”

“Because it’s an amazing gift,” Gavin piped up. “Although perhaps not the most useful.”

“What are you getting at?” Ray asked, suddenly, turning to Michael. It was the first time he’d addressed the other man since getting back from the temple, and Jack saw Michael stiffen a little - he wasn’t sure anyone else noticed; maybe he was just paying more attention to the two of them. “You reckon he was a real person?”

Michael shrugged, shooting a little glance at him. Ray stared back - seemed genuinely interested.

“I don’t know,” Michael replied. “I’m just throwing shit out there. I guess the Wild people must’ve thought he was.”

Ray nodded, and they fell into silence again - all the kings looking at the tower now. As the quiet wore on, something funny settled over them - it was so dark in here, only the flickering light of the fire providing some illumination, and growing frigidly cold the later it got - in the quiet, there was something very intense about how all five kings sat, staring at the picture. After a moment, Michael shivered and reached up to touch his chest before darting a quick little glance at the others. Jack watched, suddenly left out again - wondering if they were all feeling something, and just not saying anything aloud.

It was Gavin who stirred first, sweeping up the stone tablets and shoving them back in his bag.

“Anyway,” he declared. “Time for bed, methinks. The mobs can keep watch in case another beast shows up.”

“I’d feel better if one of us was awake,” Geoff said - Ryan and Gavin both turned to him, opening their mouths to either argue or reassure him, Jack wasn’t sure which - but he piped up as well before they could.

“Me too. I know you guys completely trust them, but… these beasts are unnatural. Maybe it’s silly, but I kind of want someone human awake. Just in case.”

“If you say so,” Gavin replied. “I’ll take second watch.”

“Generous of you,” Michael said. “I’ll go first.”

“Third,” Geoff said, and Ryan nodded.

“In that case, I’ll send a golem off to get those Ender pearls.”

He rose and went off to where his golems were standing in a line next to his tent - a neat row of glowing red eyes. The rest of them sat for a moment, huddled around the fire. In the dim light, the ruins of the castle looked spooky next to them, a jagged dark shape rising up towards the sky.

“It’s so cold that I don’t want to move,” Gavin sighed. He was crouched close to the fire, hands out and warming himself - but after a moment he heaved himself to his feet with a groan. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Gav,” Jack said. It came out too softly, too sincerely - he couldn’t help it. He wanted to hug the other man, but Geoff was leaning against his side and he didn’t want to push him off. Gavin looked down at him and gave a small smile before heading off to his tent.

“I hope he’s okay alone,” Jack murmured.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Geoff replied.

Jack bit his lip, watching Gavin vanish into the darkness.

“It’s cold,” he replied, though it wasn’t the whole of what he wanted to say. He was too-aware of Michael and Ray, watching them from the other side of the fire. Now that Gavin had left, they were sitting next to one another, and they glanced at each other a bit awkwardly before Michael suddenly shrugged his bear cloak off and passed it to Ray.

“Here,” he said, gruffly. “He’s right. It’s cold.”

Ray looked surprised - then something strange flashed over his face, something wary.

“You’ll need it keeping watch,” he said.

Jack held his breath, waiting for Michael to snap at him, to take it as a rejection - but the other man just took a deep breath that left his nose and mouth in foggy streams in the freezing air.

“I can sit by the fire. I’m used to it, anyway - this is like a summer’s day compared to the Alps. You’re used to desert weather.” He dropped the cloak in Ray’s lap and then stood up before he could protest, muttering, “Gonna go take a piss.”

He strode off into the forest and Ray stared after him. He looked down at the cloak, then hesitated - but it seemed even he wasn’t cold-hearted enough to just leave it there. He took it with him back to their tent, and by Jack’s side, Geoff huffed out a laugh.

“They’ll be okay, I think,” he said, and Jack smiled a bit.

“I think so too, but you can never be sure. I just hope that they both see sense and don’t throw away the chance to at least resolve their friendship.”

Geoff nodded, and Jack’s gaze turned to Ryan. He was only just visible on the fringes of the firelight, issuing a command to one of his golems.

“How was it? Going down to the temple with him,” Jack asked, softly.

Geoff opened his mouth to reply, but his own massive yawn cut him off. He laughed a bit.

“It was… interesting. I’ll tell you tomorrow - I’m beat for now, I think.”

“Fair enough. We should both sleep.” Jack heaved himself to his feet and pulled Geoff up after him, leaning in to kiss him quickly before turning to their tent. As they passed Ray’s, then Gavin’s, he couldn’t help but hesitate.

It felt strangely wrong, how they were all split up like this. He wasn’t sure why - it made perfect sense that everyone should have their own space. It was Gavin, probably - how wrong it seemed for him to be here with them but not sleeping alongside Geoff and Jack as he’d used to. Again, Jack missed him, a fierce ache in his chest. But he swallowed it down, and tugged Geoff closer to his side, glad that at least he was here with him in the Wild that still seemed so foreign and dangerous. They headed off to bed together.

 

* * *

 

Ryan had decided earlier that evening that he wasn’t even going to attempt going to sleep. It would be useless, anyway.

He’d had trouble sleeping for a long time, but since the games it’d gotten even worse. Most of the time he could distract himself, throw himself into work on the golems - but nowadays, with that finished, he too often found himself alone in the small hours with nothing but his thoughts, running over and over in his head.

Now he sat in his tent, eyes dry and sore from being awake so long, staring at his journal in the harsh light of the redstone torch - memorising the picture he’d copied down, trying to make sense of it. It was no use - he couldn’t stop thinking about what else had happened in the temples.

_Ramsey._

He clenched his fists, throwing the journal down - his stomach churning with something too close to nerves as he remembered his little outburst. How stupidly fucking _honest_ he’d been with the other man.

_You’re losing your grip._

The control, the coldness he’d been clinging to so desperately since the games - he’d thought he’d be able to stay harder than ever around the others, yet since they got here he felt like he was slipping, like everything he did and said was too emotionally charged and the others _knew it_ , knew he wasn’t so detached - hell, he could feel it himself.

Maybe it was the near death experience he’d had. Because gods, he’d been _scared_. He’d never thought he would be, of death. He’d thought he’d prepared himself for the moment someone would finally betray him, make an attempt on his life - yet somehow, when the time did come…

It had been an appallingly _lonely_ experience. Kerry had been there, of course, and Mica - but when he was bed-bound and healing, when he was spending hours alone in his room recovering, it had hit him, suddenly, that if he was to die right fucking then - what was he even leaving behind?

He’d tried to do right by his people since inheriting. And for a long time, he’d focused on that. But after seeing the others here again, and how close they all were, how close they _had been_ in some cases - it only hit him even harder that he had his work, and his machines, and his laws and plans for the development of his kingdom-

But nothing for himself. Nothing at fucking all.

That was what Gavin had given him, he thought, with a spark of resentment. What it had felt like to _connect_ with someone, to be _close_ to them. That was what he missed now, even if it had all been a lie. And it only made him hate the fool even more, for giving him a taste and then snatching it away.

A noise outside made him sit up straighter - he’d been awaiting the golem’s return. At full speed it should only take a matter of hours to get to the Stoneworld and his lab and then come back here. He listened intently, and heard its clanking metal footsteps.

_There we are_ , he thought, and clambered out of his warm bedroll, wrapping his cloak around him. The temperature had dropped sharply a couple of hours ago, and it was freezing outside now, his breath misting in the air as he left the tent and emerged into the bitterly cold night.

He’d heard Michael and Gavin switch watches earlier, but when he looked around now, there was no sign of the fool by the fire - he looked around for him, and eventually noticed him sitting up in the branches of one of the large trees that ringed the campsite. He was facing away, and in the dim light of the moon cast a lonely figure, with his arms wrapped around himself, high up there away from everyone else.

Ryan stared at him for a moment, then shook himself, turning to meet his golem, which came clanking into the clearing. He moved up to it and it held out a hand, holding a sack. Ryan took it - it was deceptively light, but as he took it he heard the _clink_ of the Ender pearls inside, and he looked inside and saw the greenish shimmer of them in the moonlight.

“Go keep watch with the others,” he said, reaching out and putting a hand on the golem’s chest. It glowed briefly red as he gave the redstone it ran on a boost of power, and it nodded its head before turning and walking back over to stand in a neat line with the other golems.

“Got it, then?” Gavin called out, and Ryan stiffened at his voice. He turned and found the other man hopping down from the tree and approaching him - Gavin stopped by the fire, and Ryan walked over as well, unable to help himself. It was very, very cold out here. He didn’t answer, but they made awkward eye contact as he put the bag down and reached out to warm his hands.

In the silent night he heard Gavin swallow, audibly.

“How are you gonna burn it?” he asked, still, it seemed, determined to make conversation, even if it was the middle of the fucking night. “Just chuck it in the fire?”

“I’ll use a torch,” Ryan replied, tersely.

“It doesn’t show them burning it in the instructions,” Gavin added. “If that’s what they are.”

“Maybe it’s implied,” Ryan snapped, and sounded annoyed enough that Gavin fell silent. For a moment they stood, staring into the crackling flames. Gavin looked small and tired, the firelight casting his face into angled shadows, emphasising the dark smudges under his eyes and the sharp lines of his cheekbones. Ryan stared at him for a moment, something welling up in his throat, before glancing away when Gavin looked up at him.

He should leave.

He should go back to his tent right now - no sense lingering here. But it was so cold, and he didn’t want to move away from the fire, and it wasn’t like they were _talking_.

At least until Gavin, it seemed, felt the need to pipe up again.

“How was it with Geoff, out there?” he asked, abruptly.

Ryan closed his eyes and let out a huff of breath.

“Fine,” he said curtly.

There was a long silence. Then he heard Gavin take a deep breath - when he spoke, his voice was small and almost hesitant.

“Did he… did he say anything about me?”

Ryan’s eyes snapped open. Gavin looked oddly nervous - around Ryan, more than anyone else, he’d held up such a facade of confidence that it was jarring to see him suddenly so vulnerable.

“Why should you care?” he demanded.

Gavin’s jaw clenched. He looked away, and now - now Ryan couldn’t help pushing. Cruelly, maybe, but after all Gavin had done to him, pressing at the other man’s wounds seemed like some petty justice.

“Any trouble between you,” he continued, “Is of your own making.”

“I didn’t just come out of nowhere with what I did,” Gavin snapped. He’d broken quickly, quicker than Ryan’s expected - especially given how cheery he’d seemed earlier this evening. “I didn’t… there were _reasons_ that I took the crown-”

“I don’t care about your excuses,” Ryan cut in, sharply. “No matter what’s happened to you, that’s no reason to turn on other people!”

He snatched up the bag of Ender pearls and turned to stalk back to his tent, but he’d only taken a few steps away from the fire when he heard Gavin move after him.

“That’s pretty bloody rich coming from you!” he called out, and Ryan paused, stiffening.

“Excuse me?” he asked, coldly, without turning around.

Gavin barked out a laugh behind him, harsh and unexpectedly _mean_.

“You can’t trust anyone,” he said, a mocking sing-song in it. “So you lash out. At _everybody_. You try to play us against each other, all your _mind games_ \- but as soon as someone does the same thing to you, you can’t stand the heat, you-”

“I _what_?” Ryan spat. His heart was pounding, outraged and shaken. He whirled around - Gavin was staring at him, fists clenched by his sides, chin lifted defiantly. Such a _martyr_ , even now. Ryan stepped towards him and hissed, “Do you have any _idea_ what you did to me?”

“I didn’t realise,” Gavin said. There were times, before, when he’d seemed guilty at how he’d tricked Ryan - but now his voice was calm, assured, like he had convinced himself he was in the fucking _right_ here. It made Ryan’s blood boil.

“Oh, he didn’t _realise_ ,” he sneered. He took another step forward, but Gavin held his gaze steadily, with a confidence that was simply infuriating. “I don’t believe you. You’ve shown what a good liar you are.”

“If you’d just take a moment and look at it from my point of view,” Gavin continued, steadily. “With your reputation, and how quickly you-”

“You know what,” Ryan cut in. “I don’t fucking care. You did what you did, fool. And clearly you don’t care about the effect it had on the rest of us.”

Something had tightened in Gavin’s face. When he spoke his voice was low and so angry that it was almost startling.

“I have a bloody name,” he said - but Ryan just scoffed, and turned away. He started to walk back to his tent, and behind him, Gavin let out an indignant noise.

“I’m not done talking to you!” he snapped. “ _Ryan_!”

Ryan ignored him. It gave him a little thrill of satisfaction to hear the other’s voice rise angrily behind him - but his words, when they came, were cutting.

“You can’t just run away from anything you don’t want to hear!” Gavin shouted. “For fuck’s sake, I know you hate me-”

He’d rushed after Ryan, and suddenly his hand closed around his arm, trying to tug him back. Ryan saw red at being touched so unexpectedly; half-instinctively he whirled around and shoved Gavin, so hard that he stumbled back a good few metres, and it was probably only his impeccable balance that kept him upright.

“You’re right,” Ryan hissed, ruthlessly, the anger rising up and taking over. “I do hate you. Geoff hates you, they _all_ hate you - do you think you’re _special_ , now? You think you’re one of us?”

He laughed, meanly, advancing on Gavin and cutting his hand through the air in a vicious swipe.

“You think you could _ever_ be one of us after what you did? They will never forgive you. And you’ll _never_ fit in here. You might wear the crown, but you’ll never be anything more than what you are - a dirty little thief with no parents, no history, _nothing_! You are _nothing_ and you will _always_ be nothing!”

The words burst out and seemed to linger like a heavy fog around them in the quiet cold night. He stood, breathing heavily, his heart thundering so fast he thought it might explode, the blood rushing through his veins and setting them alight.

It didn’t make him feel better to say it.

He realised that, and felt sick deep in his stomach. It was what people expected from him, this violence - it was what he’d _thought_ would help. But it didn’t, it didn’t - he was still so angry, still so hurt-

And Gavin - Gavin had gone pale. For a moment he simply stared. Then, completely silent, he launched himself forward and swung a punch at Ryan.

Ryan ducked easily - with an angry grunt, he grabbed Gavin’s wrist and shoved him backwards, slamming him against the nearest tree. He kept a tight grip on his arm, twisting it until Gavin hissed in pain, his free hand shoving ineffectually at Ryan’s chest. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Ryan’s blood rushed in his ears - he couldn’t quite believe the other man had actually _attacked_ him, and he glared down at him now, furious. Gavin stared back up at him. His eyes were filled with a hate so bitter it was startling.

Ryan was suddenly acutely aware that his sword was back in his tent, that he only had a dagger in his boot - Gavin was probably armed too, a blade hidden somewhere in his clothes. He didn’t go for it, though - just pushed at Ryan again, to no avail; the other man had him pinned firmly to the tree, his weight bearing down on him.

“Let go of me,” he spat, and Ryan laughed, breathless and harsh.

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ ,” he sneered. “Have you started something you can’t finish?”

Gavin’s eyes flashed angrily. He hissed out a long breath - it was so cold that mist rose from his mouth like smoke, and like some ominous necromancy, the draugr that had been sitting outside his tent rose up and moved towards them, an army of skeletons.

But Ryan’s golems, picking up on the movement, turned towards him - all it took was a nod and they moved to intercept the skeletons, There were more of them, as Gavin had sent most of his mobs out into the forest to keep watch, and they blocked the draugr’s paths easily. He saw the uncertainty that flashed across Gavin’s face, and with a sudden surge realised just how much power he had here.

_You could kill him right now - or try to_.

He brought a hand up, circling Gavin’s throat - the other man stiffened as he pressed down, not quite hard enough to cut off his air.

He wouldn’t do it. He knew he wouldn’t, but for one awful moment he wanted to scare Gavin, to make him feel like _he_ had _,_ and he leaned in and whispered, “Maybe you’re not as in control as you like to think.”

Gavin had stopped struggling - one hand gripped Ryan’s wrist, the other still clutching at the front of his cloak. In the dark his eyes shone so unnaturally green that they were unsettling to look at.

“Maybe _you’re_ not,” he replied, voice tight. “If I yell-”

“Who do you think will help you? _Geoff?_ ”

“Michael,” Gavin replied, confidently, and Ryan barked out a harsh laugh. He let his hand loosen and fall away from Gavin’s throat, and felt the other man suck in a shaky, relieved breath.

“Ah yes, poor Michael,” he growled, close to Gavin’s ear. “You’ve turned his head. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Play the poor little orphan. Make people feel _sorry_ for you. Geoff and Jack, first. _Me_. And now him. You make them feel for you so they’ll do what you want, so they’ll take _care_ of you - use them, then throw them aside.”

“That’s not what happened,” Gavin snapped, looking genuinely furious.

“Isn’t it?” Ryan demanded, and shook him roughly before slamming him against the tree again. “You fucking sicken me.”

“I care about them,” Gavin insisted. “Michael is my-”

“Your _what_?” Ryan hissed, something stabbing at him at Gavin’s words - _I care about them - what about me, didn’t you think of_ me _when you were pretending to care, last time -_ “Your _friend?_ You’ve got him falling all over you with your pretty face and your sob story. Take that away, what do you have? Noth-”

He broke off with a grunt as Gavin suddenly twisted in his grip, managing to slip out of Ryan’s grasp and kicking out at him. His boot hit Ryan in the thigh with surprising force, making him stumble back with a hiss of pain - but he reacted automatically, catching Gavin’s arm as he fell and yanking him down. The other man crashed to the ground and Ryan, off balance, landed heavily on top of him.

“Fuck!” Gavin cried, as Ryan’s weight squashed him into the dirt and accidentally wrenched his arm up at an odd angle. Ryan grunted as he caught himself - then froze.

He was pressed right up against Gavin, his chest to the other man’s back - could feel a sharp shoulder-blade digging into him, and the warmth of the other man’s body against his-

But flooding out all that was the most peculiar tingling sensation that suddenly swept through his whole body only to accumulate in his chest; a burning almost-heat like the sun was trapped inside his ribcage. His whole mind was suddenly flooded with _Gavin, Gavin_ , as though the bond that linked them had been pulled taut like a rope, dragging them flush against each other - he could feel Gavin’s physical pain, the ache in his arm and the shock of hitting the ground - not just that, but everything _else,_ too, his anger and uncertainty and a crushing _loneliness_.

For a moment he felt dizzy, unsure who he was, whose mind he was in-

Then he came back to himself and realised, with a horrid shock, that if he could feel Gavin, then by logic Gavin could also feel _him_ \- he sat up, pushing himself off the other man.

“What are you doing?” he cried, pressing his hand to his chest. His own voice came out shaky, more scared than he liked. “What is this?”

It felt like when they’d just entered the Wild - that sudden surge in his connection with the others. It had been terrifying, being forced so close to them.

Gavin squirmed out from under him and scrambled away. As he put distance between them, the feeling lessened into nothing more than a dull buzzing sensation over Ryan’s skin, the cold of their surroundings seeping slowly back in. For a moment they sat, recovering themselves. Gavin had his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, and Ryan could see him breathing heavily, puffs of mist rising from his mouth with every pant.

“What was that?” he repeated. It came out much calmer this time.

Gavin looked away for a moment, rubbing his arm. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and tight.

“What do you care?”

“I care when it affects me,” Ryan replied. “What _is_ it?”

He got to his feet and moved towards Gavin, still sitting on the ground - but when he approached, the other man looked up, glared, and then snapped his teeth at him.

Ryan stopped in his tracks, startled by that sudden feral display - especially when, moments later, three Endermen stepped silently out of the trees. They’d been guarding the perimeter, but Gavin must’ve summoned them earlier. Their enormous dark forms cast the two humans into shadow, and a chill ran down Ryan’s spine as the purple eyes fixed on him. He raised his hands defensively.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll stay back here. What’s going on?”

Gavin’s shoulders were tense, but after a moment he seemed to realise Ryan was finished trying to attack him, and relaxed a little.

“I… I’m not certain,” he replied slowly. “But I have a guess.”

“An educated guess, I hope,” Ryan said, and Gavin scoffed.

“It’s magic,” he said, simply. “The Wild, the weird feeling you get here, it’s-”

“Magic doesn’t exist,” Ryan cut in. He’d repeated himself so many times by this point that he was sick of it, but he was unsettled by the certainty in Gavin’s voice. He wasn’t joking around now, like he had been that one time in Ryan’s lab, going on about the _Moon King_ and stupid things like that. He sounded completely serious.

“Can you shut up for a second and actually _listen_ to me?” Gavin snapped. “I’m the one who’s lived here the last eight gods damned months. I know what I’m bloody well talking about.”

For once Ryan shut his mouth and listened. Gavin took a deep breath.

“It’s magic,” he repeated, firmly. “I don’t know what sort, or exactly how it works, but it changes things here in this kingdom. It lets the mobs respawn, they weren’t always able to-”

“How do you know that?” Ryan cut in, unable to help himself.

“The witches told me,” Gavin answered. “They remember things from way back. Oral history,” he added, tapping his lips. “It’s not written down anywhere. They just tell each other. And they think the Wild wasn’t always like this. There’s magic and it’s made the plants grow so huge. It can be used to enchant weapons, like Michael’s - how can you explain that sword with science?”

Enchantments weren’t something Ryan’d had much cause to study, and he listened in silence.

“And I think,” Gavin continued, “It’s why when we stepped into the Wild, the bond suddenly felt so strong.”

“You didn’t say anything about this at the time,” Ryan said.

“I wasn’t sure,” Gavin replied. “But just then, you got close to me and we felt it again, right? Being here in the Wild… it’s changing the bond. Making it feel stronger.”

“Why between the two of us?” Ryan snapped. This whole conversation was making him uneasy. “We might be connected but we don’t _like_ each other - my bond’s always been weakest with Geoff because we avoid thinking about each other, so I don’t see why it should suddenly get strong between you and I.”

“Because,” Gavin began, and then faltered suddenly, swallowing. He was quiet a moment, then added, softly, “I’m a witch.”

Ryan stared at him. Gavin stared back, eyes burning. And he wasn’t lying, not now - Ryan could tell. He almost looked afraid.

“What,” he replied, slowly.

“Witches were born in the Wild,” Gavin explained, carefully. “Magic got all in them when they were little. That’s what happened to me.” He scoffed out a laugh and added, “It’s so bloody stupid, isn’t it - all along and I never _saw_. It’s in my gods damned nickname. _Witchy boy_ , remember? I told you that’s what they used to call me.”

“That’s not…”

“Not what? Not possible?” Gavin shook his head, laughing again. “Another witch saw me and told me. She knew right away - that’s why my eyes look like this. I come from the Wild. Now that I’m back, the magic’s getting stronger in me. And so the bond’s getting stronger as well - you’re all absorbing it now that you’re here. I guess when you got close to me it activated it - we were both emotional and I’m like, a beacon or something. A source point.”

Ryan couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Gavin had either been totally convinced by some fraud wandering here in the forest pretending to be a witch…

Or he was telling the truth, because something _did_ feel strange here, and his eyes did glow unnaturally. Something had changed in him, and it wasn’t just from living outdoors for eight months.

_Perhaps the Wild did call to the fool after all_ , he thought, and shook himself. He didn’t believe in fate like that - Gavin had stolen the crown, that was the only fact they knew.

“You say magic,” he said slowly, trying to reason this out. “What do you mean by that? If you _are_ a witch, can you… feel it?”

“Yes,” Gavin replied, and shrugged. “It feels like the gift, kind of. It feels like… like another sense. It’s just always there, coursing through you. You can’t use it - or well, I can’t, because I never learned as a child, other witches can channel it as enchantments - but I can feel it there. And it makes me more aware of the gift and the link to the rest of you,” he added.

“What does that mean?”

“Since coming in here… you must feel it too,” Gavin pointed out. “If anything, think about how Jack _doesn’t_ feel it - you can see it in his face, can’t you? The lack of it. This place isn’t touching him like it’s touching us. Because we all have magic, all of us kings. Not as much as witches do, but the crown puts it in you when it gives you the gift. So I suppose I’m double dosed now. Lucky me.”

Ryan considered this. Setting aside the fact that he’d always furiously denied the existence of magic… something about it did make sense, especially now that Gavin had linked it to the crowns.

“But why only in the Wild?” he asked. “You’re right that this place is strange, but one reason I _don’t_ believe magic exists is that aside from the crown gifts, there are no proven cases. You expect me to believe this one kingdom is overflowing with it?”

“That’s exactly what I expect you to believe,” Gavin pointed out. “Look around us. Whatever destroyed everything here _must’ve_ been magical - and it left behind all the magic in the air. Because I don’t think it used to be here before the… the apocalypse, or whatever you want to call it. That’s why it’s the only kingdom where this happens - that’s why witches originate here.”

“I… I see,” was all Ryan managed in response, and took a moment to stand there and process this. It was certainly an influx of information.

When he looked back over at Gavin, the other man was staring up at him almost nervously. After a moment, Gavin reached up and touched his chest. The funny feeling had faded to a dull, warm ebb - still present, but not as strong as it had been before.

“I didn’t do it deliberately,” he said. “We… we must both have just been emotional and when you got so close…”

Ryan snorted.

“Clearly you have no control over it,” he said, and sighed, intrigued despite himself. “A witch - your parents were witches too, then?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin admitted. “Not necessarily, but it’s possible. There’s still a lot I have to figure out.”

“Hm,” Ryan huffed, and couldn’t help adding snidely, “That explains a lot about you. You know what they say about them - unable to stay in one spot. Fickle. Untrustworthy.”

“How about you shut the fuck up,” Gavin snapped, with such venom that Ryan stopped in his tracks - the words had been slipping out, mostly because it seemed like what was expected. “Stop that. If you actually genuinely mean that, then fuck you. If you’re just saying it for the sake of being cruel, then don’t bother wasting your breath. You’re right, I do know you hate me, but I…”

He trailed off, clenching his fists by his sides - Ryan paused, watching him. Somehow his anger wasn’t amusing anymore. Wasn’t even satisfying.

“I genuinely did not think you cared for me that much,” Gavin tried again. This time he didn’t sound as calm, as detached, but he was still so _certain_ that Ryan couldn’t help shutting off again. “I thought you were manipulating me-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Don’t waste _your_ breath,” he snapped. “I thought we had a… a connection, but don’t try and _bond_ with me now. We don’t understand each other.”

“I think we do,” Gavin said quickly - Ryan scoffed, and started to turn away, but Gavin’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“We’re not monsters, Ryan! You know what they say about witches. It scared me when I found out. I… I thought they were right, that I was a curse, something bad, something that could only hurt people. But I’m _not_. I’m a leader. I’m a king. I’m building up my kingdom. And _you are too_.”

Ryan looked away. Once again - just like in the games - Gavin had the uncanny gift of somehow so naturally blurting out exactly what he needed to hear. _But not from you, I don’t want to hear it from_ you-

“The Mad King,” Gavin continued. “You’re _not_. The things they say about you aren’t true, I still believe that.”

He took a deep breath, then said, firmly, “No one here’s a monster. We’re all _human_. And you should treat people like people, no matter what they were born into - their family, their community, their kingdom - none of that matters. It’s what you make of yourself, what you _build_ that proves your worth, isn’t it? Or at least, that’s what I believe.”

Ryan clenched his jaw. Gods, but Gavin got under his skin too much. He agreed with the other man, of course he did - hadn’t he spent his whole life struggling under the reputation his mother had left him with? And now he didn’t know what to think about Gavin. It was easy to hate him when they hadn’t been around each other. Now that they were, everything the other man said kept reminding him of why he’d liked him in the first place; their shared worldview, the way their situations seemed to parallel each other, again and again, making it so they would fit together so easily, if they let themselves.

But he couldn’t forget what Gavin had _done_. How much he’d hurt him.

“I’m not what you thought I was, no,” Gavin added softly after a moment. “But don’t… don’t put me in a box, because I never have been _anything_ that any of you said. I’m not just some innocent kid for you all to protect. I’m not a pawn. And I’m not a monster. And _you’re_ not what they think you are either.”

“Don’t act like you can see what I am,” Ryan grumbled, but there was less venom in it than usual. Still - Gavin seemed to give up. His shoulders slumped and he turned away, apparently not willing to push any further. Somehow, that made something tug in Ryan’s chest - something almost disappointed. He couldn’t tell why.

Gavin got to his feet. He turned and looked at the Endermen, still flanking him, then paused.

“Endermen,” he murmured.

“What?” Ryan asked.

“At the temples,” Gavin continued, thoughtfully. “There were statues of Endermen. And they were painted on those tablets, too. Not any other mob - just Endermen.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin murmured. “Just seems strange, dunnit?”

Ryan just shrugged. He was starting to feel tired, now - a headache building behind his dry eyes, and now that the adrenaline of their fight was fading away, the cold was seeping back in. He saw Gavin shiver as well, and then glance towards the tents.

“It’s nearly Geoff’s shift,” Gavin said softly. “It’s a wonder we didn’t wake the others. They must be so exhausted they didn’t hear a thing.”

He stood for a moment, staring at Geoff and Jack’s tent - seemed tired, and a little upset. Some small part of Ryan almost didn’t like being the cause of that look on his face. Still - Gavin shook himself after a moment.

“I’ll go wake him up,” he said. “Then I’m off to bed. You should go, too.”

Ryan turned away silently.

“And Ryan,” Gavin called out - he paused this time, and turned to see Gavin staring at him, something oddly serious in his face.

“I don’t care how much you hate me,” Gavin said slowly. “Don’t you ever lay your fucking hands on me like that again.”

There was something dangerous in it. With the Endermen behind him, he seemed powerful. And Ryan had been playing soft with him before - could’ve done a lot worse - but Gavin could have too, it seemed. After all, the other man had proven his ruthlessness before, killing the beast. He might not have the advantage in a fistfight, but if he’d wanted to grab a knife and hurt Ryan, he probably could have. He was definitely cunning enough.

“You threw the first punch,” Ryan pointed out with a sneer. “Learn to take some responsibility.”

“One person’s never just to blame,” Gavin replied, softly.

Ryan looked away, his jaw clenching. Somehow he doubted their fight was all Gavin was talking about. He snatched up his bag and marched off back to his tent - when he hesitated and looked back over his shoulder before going inside, it was to find Gavin still standing by the fire, rubbing his arm. He looked tiny with the Endermen surrounding him, and painfully alone.

Something too close to guilt swelled in his chest. And Gods, he was still so _hurt_ \- didn’t want to hear the excuses and pleas, but-

_He thinks he can explain himself to me._

_Didn’t you just explain yourself to Geoff?_

The resentment and fear were a solid block, stopped him wanting to let Gavin close again, to dare to _hope_ he might have some explanation that Ryan could accept…

But still. After their fight today he just felt _tired_. Jack would probably say it had been good for them to get their anger out, he thought wryly. That they could move forward from here. But Jack didn’t always know everything.

He lay down, but knew he wouldn’t sleep. And he felt cold now, away from the fire, but there was still something warm in his chest, a lingering effect of that supposed _magic_ \- something he couldn’t shake off. It might have been comforting, if he let it, but right now he could only resent it with every fibre of his being.

 

* * *

 

Jack rose early the next morning. Geoff was on watch, and it was cold without the other man tucked into the blankets beside him. When the sun came up, waking him, he couldn’t get back to sleep and emerged.

He’d thought few of the others would be awake, and was surprised to find most of them already up. The golems were bustling around the clearing, gathering more firewood and stacking it neatly by the campsite, where Geoff was leaning over a pot, cooking what smelt like porridge.

Michael was up too, and sitting near him. As Jack approached, he looked up and smiled - and Jack was struck, quite suddenly, by how good he looked in the bright morning air, the cold turning his cheeks and the tip of his nose rosy, his curls poking out from under the drawn-up hood of his bear cloak. He shook the thought away - Michael was popular too, among most people. It wasn’t unusual to be impressed upon seeing him in person.

“Brisk morning, isn’t it?” Michael called out, and Jack laughed.

“That’s one way of putting it. It’s fucking freezing. Good morning, you,” he added, coming in by Geoff’s side and leaning in to kiss the top of his head. “Tired?”

“Not too bad,” Geoff replied, glancing up at him with a sleepy smile. Jack kept one hand resting on his shoulder as he looked around the clearing.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“Ray’s gone into the trees to piss,” Michael informed them. “Ryan’s burning the Ender pearls over there.”

Jack had thought he could smell something strange. He looked over to find a curl of greenish smoke rising from behind Ryan’s tent.

“He’s angry,” Geoff added, when Jack started to leave the fire. “Don’t bother him.”

“What’s he angry about?” Jack asked, sitting back down next to Geoff.

Michael shrugged.

“Gods know, but he was grumpy as fuck when he came out here earlier. Got out the wrong side of the bedroll, I guess.”

“I see,” Jack replied, a little concerned. “Where’s Gav?”

“Asleep,” Michael began, only for Gavin’s voice to ring out behind them.

“Awake now, actually.”

Jack turned to find him emerging from his tent, wrapping his scarf around his neck. His voice was thick and drowsy, and there were dark lines under his eyes. It was strange to see him dragging his feet and obviously exhausted after how exuberant and bouncy he’d been every other day. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think he was sick.

He saw Geoff look up next to him, and a flash of something almost worried cross his face.

“You look like shit!” Michael exclaimed. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” Gavin mumbled. Too tired, it seemed, to even bother pretending not to be. Jack watched in concern as he meandered over and sat down right up against Michael’s side. After a moment, he rested his head on the other man’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“I didn’t get much sleep,” he said, and sighed. “Michael, your cloak is really soft, Michael. All that bear fur.”

“It’s warm, too,” Michael added, pulling it open and wrapping part of it around him. Gavin nuzzled closer to him, and Jack felt a sudden pang in his chest.

_He used to do that with you_.

Geoff was studiously avoiding looking at them, stirring the porridge in the pot so vigorously that it began to bubble and foam up alarmingly. Gavin didn’t seem to notice; he was nearly falling asleep, and as Jack watched in silence, Michael reached down and suddenly picked up the other man’s wrist, inspecting it with a frown. From here Jack couldn’t see what he was looking at - but before Michael could say anything, Ray suddenly emerged from the trees, and Michael was distracted, looking up at him.

Ray stepped towards them and froze at the sight of Gavin - but Michael must’ve taken Jack’s words yesterday to heart, because he smiled at the other man, and Ray’s annoyance morphed almost immediately into confusion before he tentatively smiled back.

“Help your fucking selves,” Geoff declared abruptly. He was still avoiding looking at anyone, and scooped himself a steaming bowl of the rather lumpy looking greyish substance he’d created, before wandering some distance away and plonking himself down on a tree stump.

Jack scoffed, the spell broken as Gavin sat up and Michael turned to get his own bowl. He dished himself some breakfast and went over to Geoff. As he was sitting down, he looked up to see Ray had come over and was hovering a bit shyly.

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked.

“This isn’t the school playground,” Geoff said, but laughed a bit. “Yes, of course you can sit with us.”

Ray looked relieved. He sat down and Jack caught him stealing a little glance at Michael and Gavin, who had taken out the stone tablets again and seemed to be discussing them as they ate.

_Baby steps_ , he assured himself. At least they hadn’t fought this morning.

A flicker of movement caught his eyes, and he turned to find Ryan emerging from behind the tent. The Stone king looked around, taking in their seating arrangements, before going and getting his own food only to head back and sit down just outside his own tent. His golems came up and sat in a circle with him, crouching there on their haunches. It was a bizarre sight, and Jack could only laugh.

“What the fuck is he doing? Sitting with his golems?”

“Might be giving them commands for the day,” Ray said, but shook his head. His lips were twitching. “That’s so fucking weird.”

Jack turned to Geoff, who was hunched over his bowl watching Ryan with a funny look on his face.

“So what happened with him in the temple?” he prompted, and Geoff jerked as though he’d been daydreaming, looking over at him.

“Oh. Well, first off, we nearly died in this booby trap.”

“ _Geoff.”_ Jack’s heart nearly stopped - they’d been so calm when they got back that he’d assumed there hadn’t been anything dangerous out at the temples. The entire war with Nutt had stretched on for so long that danger was common to them, but proper near death experiences…

That had him scared, but Geoff reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, casually. “You know, pit full of spikes, walls closing in, the real deal. I wasn’t scared! But Ryan turned the whole thing into redstone to freeze it, and got us out of there.”

“Thank the gods,” Jack said. Geoff rubbed his arm again before pulling back.

“But anyway, we got into… not a fight,” he said, with a small frown. “But it got personal. He admitted to killing his mother.”

“ _What_ ,” Ray cut in. Jack turned to find his eyes huge as he stared at them.

“You never heard that rumour?” Geoff asked, and Ray shook his head furiously.

“No! I thought she just got sick and died.”

“Oh no,” Geoff replied, a little too calmly in Jack’s opinion. “He killed her.”

“What the fuck,” Ray murmured, and Jack turned to him.

“She was a bad woman,” he said, firmly. “Evil, even. You’re a bit too young to know some of the things she used to do, Ray, but during her reign… it wasn’t a good time.”

“Yeah, he…” Geoff trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words. Gods, Jack wished he knew exactly how _that_ conversation had gone down. Or come up in the first place. “I don’t know. I used to think, there had to have been another way. Not murder. Not _that._ But I guess… I guess for him, there wasn’t. He felt like he was running out of time - thought he was doing what was right.”

“A lot of people would argue that he _was_ ,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah,” Geoff murmured, and stabbed at his porridge with his spoon. “And I suppose you’re gonna say you told me so, but… he’s not as bad as all that, I guess. I dunno.”

Jack realised he was smiling, and when Geoff looked up and noticed, he gave an indignant huff.

“I don’t know,” he repeated again, a bit defensively. “He still has a lot to prove to me! But… better an ally than an enemy, I suppose. Maybe. Depending.”

“You’ve never been enemies,” Jack said, with a small laugh. “Not like the queen and your father were.”

“Still,” Geoff muttered.

They fell into silence. Jack looked over; Ryan was methodically eating now, the golems still crouched around him. Like a circle of children in the schoolyard, except only one was human.

“He looks lonely over there,” he couldn’t help saying softly. “Doesn’t he?”

“Ryan’s not that bad,” Ray piped up. He still seemed a bit shocked by what Geoff had told him, but as he looked at Ryan, his face grew determined, his voice firm as he turned to stare the two of them in the eye. “People judge him right away, but then again, people judge all of us, don’t I? The Rose King - they think I’m soft. They think _you’re_ a drunk.”

“Oi!” Geoff protested, but Jack knew it was a rumour that’d spread.

“They think Michael’s stupid. They think Gavin’s just some idiot who won the crown by chance - that’s what they say in the Desert, you know? _How could King Ray have been beaten by an idiot? What, did he distract you with his juggling?_ Either that or some stupid story about how he’s actually an escaped criminal who you smuggled in to steal the crown to hold ransom from Ryan, except he turned on all of you.”

“The fuck - who started that story?” Geoff demanded - although it wasn’t like rumours hadn’t spread about how the games had played out in their kingdom as well.

Ray just shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it’s out there. Public opinion sucks. We just have to deal with it. But we should all know by now that it’s mostly wrong. After all,” he added, lips twisting wryly, “They all think Michael and I are happily married.”

Jack and Geoff glanced at each other, but a second later Ray shrugged.

“Point is, a lot of the time people are just looking for someone to blame. Ryan’s a convenient target, always has been. So we can’t just trust everything we hear, y’know?”

Jack nodded agreement, and shot a pointed look at Geoff, who rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he said. “If he behaves himself on this trip, I suppose my opinion of him might be revised.”

Jack could only laugh fondly. Sure, they were making progress, but it seemed Geoff wasn’t quite ready to admit he’d been wrong yet.

“ _You_ behave yourself on this trip,” he chided, elbowing Geoff in the side. Geoff hooked an arm around his neck and tugged him in close to kiss him on the cheek.

Ray was watching them with a small smile, something almost longing in it. Jack cast him a glance, but his mind was mostly on Ryan. He was so glad that Geoff was starting to come around, because he himself liked Ryan a good deal - always had. He felt sorry for him, more than anything. Because he could see the stress Geoff had been under this past year, but he’d always had Jack to rely on - Ryan didn’t, and since they met Jack’s chief impression of the other man had been how often he was alone. Whatever had happened with Gavin had clearly only made his trust issues worse.

He hoped that, after all this, they might end up being friends. He thought Ryan and Geoff might be good for one another.

Michael and Gavin had finished eating and were gathering their bowls. Ryan, too, rose and walked over, and the others moved to join them.

“I’ve got the Ender pearl sorted,” Ryan announced, as they gathered by the fire once more. He avoided Gavin’s gaze as he passed them - Gavin looked away, down at the ground, seeming oddly subdued. Jack glanced between them suspiciously, wondering just what had happened between them - if something _had_ happened, last night, unknown to the rest of them.

But there was little time to dwell on it now. Ryan held up the pearl, and they all froze, taking it in - there was something hypnotic about the dark eye pattern seared into the surface of the orb. It looked exactly like it had in the paintings, something unsettling about its glow.

“Well then,” Gavin said, sounding more serious than Jack had heard him in a long time. “Let’s see what this does.”

 

* * *

 

They stood in a clear patch of the forest, the bright morning sky above them. Gavin held the orb in both hands, carefully. Jack stomach thrummed nervously - none of them had any idea what to expect from this. All he could hope was that they’d finally find some answers.

“It’s not an Ender pearl any more, is it?” Gavin asked. “It’s changed. Should we call it an Ender eye instead? But their eyes are purple…”

“Eye of Ender,” Ryan said. His gaze was fixed on the orb, rather than on Gavin himself. “That’s what I’ve decided to call it.”

Gavin nodded approvingly.

“EOE for short!” he declared, pronouncing it _eowee_.

“No,” Ryan replied. “That sounds stupid.”

“Too late!” Gavin cried, gleefully. “I’m the Wild king and since this came from the Wild, I declare it the _eowee_!”

“It’s _not_ called the eowee,” Ryan snapped. “The scientist who discovers it gets to name it, that’s how it works!”

Michael snorted, and the sound broke the tension a bit. Gavin shot him a grin and tossed the Eye of Ender up into the air. It flew up towards the sky and they all stared up at it, squinting against the bright light of the sun as it glinted off the shiny green surface. For a moment, the orb hovered a few metres above their heads-

Then it began to fly, further north.

“Follow it!” Gavin cried, and charged after it. The others ran after him - it flew in a single, straight line, but that line happened to lead right into the thick trees, and it was hard to get through them. Before long they were exhausted from struggling through the undergrowth - Gavin soon leaving all of them some distance behind as he sprang along up ahead, used to this terrain, ensuring he didn’t lose sight of the Eye as it flew.

After about ten minutes, they heard him let out a loud bellow.

“Gavin?” Michael called after him. “What happened?”

“It stopped!” Gavin shouted back, through the greenery. They struggled over to find him staring down at the Eye, which had dropped to land in the mud. Gavin looked around, then threw his hands up.

“If it was leading us here, there’s nothing… unless something _used_ to be here, but got destroyed with everything else.”

“So it didn’t work,” Geoff said, disappointed - but Ryan frowned, picking up the Eye. He stared at it for a long moment, then threw it in the air again.

Once more, it hovered - then continued on in the same direction.

“Oh,” Gavin said, staring up at it. “Maybe it… it does it in increments so it’s easier to keep up with? That makes sense.”

“It’s still leading us somewhere,” Ryan said, eyes fixed determinedly at the sky, and headed after it.

“What’s this way?” Geoff asked, watching the orb float into the distance. “It’s not the temples we were in before.”

“I have no idea. Never been there,” Gavin replied, shrugging. He took a deep breath. “Onward!”

 

* * *

 

For about the first dozen times that they threw the Eye into the air, they were very enthusiastic - running after it as fast as they could as it led them in a clear path.

But by the fifteenth time Gavin threw it up, they were completely tired out. The terrain had cleared, so they could trail after it more slowly without fear of losing it. Jack was out of breath and all of them were sweaty and exhausted after dashing through the jungle.

“My arm hurts,” Gavin muttered, after tossing it again, as they all set to their weary trudging once more. It broke the silence - no one had been talking much, focused on saving their breath.

Ryan was walking alone at the back of the party, surrounded by his golems. It was a clear warning for no one to engage with him - apparently he was still annoyed by whatever it was that’d happened the other night. Jack glanced over at him now and then, but his head was tilted back, eyes fixed on the orb, seeming determined not to talk to anyone.

Ray had seemed puzzled by that, and Jack had noticed him looking at the other man too, as though he wanted to go to him but was too nervous. Either way, he’d settled for sticking by Geoff’s side, walking with him in silence. Michael was up ahead, hacking through branches and pulling logs out of their way to make the path clearer.

It left Jack to fall back next to Gavin.

“Hey,” he said, and the other man glanced over at him.

“Hey,” he replied. He’d perked up a bit after breakfast, but now he seemed listless again, and Jack frowned.

“You doing okay?” he asked, gently. “You don’t look good.”

Gavin hesitated, then ran a hand over his face.

“I’m really tired,” he murmured.

“You weren’t tired before,” Jack pointed out, thinking of how the other man had sprung about in all their previous exploring. Gavin’s lips twitched.

“I know,” he admitted. “Since the dragon appeared, it’s been a stressful few weeks, you know? But when you guys arrived, I didn’t… I didn’t want to look weak. I don’t mind telling you that,” he added, with a shy little sidelong glance.

Jack’s heart swelled at that admission - at the realisation that Gavin still trusted him, enough to be vulnerable in front of him.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, and Gavin sighed.

“Kinda,” he admitted. “Just a bit of a tiff with Ryan. He… he’s right to hate me, I suppose. I basically seduced him and then discarded him, after all. I mean, I didn’t intend to - I didn’t realise he actually cared - but it doesn’t matter what we _intend_ , does it? It only matters if it hurts or not. I guess I should understand that, too.”

Those final whispered words made Jack’s heart ache. Gods, _he’d_ never intended Gavin not to realise they loved him - had never intended him to feel unwanted, or unappreciated. He could argue until he was blue in the face that neither he nor Geoff had ever tried to hurt Gavin deliberately. But the fact of the matter was, he _had_ been hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt heavy, but it was a relief to finally get them out. He’d been sitting on them for eight months now, after all.

Gavin turned to him. Something confused, then vulnerable, flickered in his eyes. His hands were tugging nervously at the end of his scarf, like a lost child.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

“You’re right,” Jack said. “I didn’t intend for you to get hurt. But I… I picked Geoff over you, time and time again. Maybe just in little ways - like supporting him during the chess instead of you. Not sticking up for you when you kept wanting to find your parents. Assuming that we were all on the same page. Not letting you _know_ I loved you, not bothering to see that you were brought up differently, that you might not just _see_ it like he and I did. I didn’t pay attention - and I’m sorry for that.”

Gavin’s eyes were huge, and something sad lurked deep inside them.

“I’m sorry too,” he said softly. “I know I hurt you by leaving. And I’m sorry if it triggered anything in the Plains, with Nutt and all. But you have Geoff now, Jack. It’s all okay.”

Jack bit his lip. Gavin’s eyes were wide, but his face was still guarded and hard to read, and Jack couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“It’s not,” he whispered back, because how could be possibly begin to express the empty ache, how it had been eight months and he and Geoff were happy together, yes, but he could still feel Gavin’s absence like a hole in his heart.

Gavin looked hopeful - then pained.

“I don’t know what that means,” he said hesitantly.

Jack stepped forward, ready to reach out to him, to tell him that he still needed him, still _loved_ him - maybe it wasn’t the best time, and he should talk with Geoff first, but suddenly the words were ready to burst out-

But Gavin looked scared suddenly, and flinched back, stopping Jack in his tracks.

“Please,” Gavin blurted out, “Please, don’t - I can’t… If you… I need to move on.”

The words were tripping over each other, confused and tangled - but that last statement stuck, and Jack froze.

It felt like his world was collapsing.

_Move on. I need to move on._

Move on from _you_.

This whole time he’d clung to the hope that Gavin still _wanted_ this, that there was still a chance they could heal - but maybe he _didn’t_ , maybe he’d found something here in the Wild that he wanted more, something to devote himself to - maybe he didn’t want _them_ any more.

It hurt, terribly, but he forced himself to keep a calm face.

“Oh,” he said, though he couldn't help how his voice cracked brokenly. “I… I see. I thought… I thought maybe we could… but things change, it’s been eight months… I get it, if you don’t want…”

He trailed off, swallowing the lump in his throat, unable to bring himself to continue.

“Sorry,” he whispered again.

Gavin looked stricken - a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. Jack started to turn away, but Gavin reached out and touched his arm.

“No Jack, wait - now I’m confused,” he began, a plea in it. “I… I wasn’t sure what you were saying. I meant that-”

“Guys!” Michael yelled out suddenly. He’d frozen where he’d just hacked through an enormous bush blocking their path.

“One second,” Jack snapped, because like hell he was gonna be interrupted again in the middle of an important conversation.

“No, look,” Michael insisted. “It’s stopped - for real this time. We’re here… and I don’t know what the fuck to make of this, holy gods, what the _fuck_.”

Gavin shot Jack a helpless glance, but the two of them moved to join the others, who had pushed their way through the bushes. Sure enough, they all froze as they stepped through and realised what was in front of them.

Some sort of square opening in the ground led into an enormous, dark hole. It was pitch black - a steep set of stairs leading deep into the earth, like some peculiar open basement. They gathered around it, staring down into the darkness.

Gavin tapped Jack’s arm, and he glanced at him.

“Wait, Jack,” he whispered, apparently not quite done yet. “Can we talk later?”

Jack nodded, relieved that things weren’t just going to end there - but Geoff moved up on his other side just then, and let out a rather shrill and alarmed noise.

“Ohoho _hohoho_ ,” he cried. “I’m not going in there! Not after last time!”

Jack glanced at him in amusement.

“I thought you weren’t scared at all in that booby trap,” he said, falling back on their usual teasing in an attempt to ignore the way his stomach was still twisting from Gavin's words earlier. Gavin himself glanced between the two of them, something pained and longing in his face.

The Eye of Ender was floating right above this strange shaft. Ryan, who’d been trailing behind, finally arrived.

“What is this place?” he asked.

Gavin turned away from the hole and looked around.

“There aren’t any ruins here,” he said, but kicked at the dirt and let out a victorious noise when he uncovered stone on the ground. “Except the floor - looks like any other buildings that might’ve been here were just completely obliterated by whatever happened long ago.”

“Well, let’s see what’s in there, then,” Ryan said.

For a moment they just stood around, no one willing to take the first step in. Eventually, Michael grabbed the torch from the nearest draugr and strode down into the dark.

The walls and stairs were made of stone, and there was a funny dryness to the air. They stuck close together, as they descended the flight of stairs leading down, down, down, deep into the heart of the earth. Geoff was right behind Jack, reaching out to grip the back of his shirt now and then. It was reassuring to be surrounded by the others.

They’d travelled so far that the opening above them was little more than a small square of light when Gavin, just behind Michael, came to a halt. The stairs were narrow enough that everyone behind him was forced to stop as well.

“The Endermen,” he said abruptly.

“What about them?” Ryan asked, twisting to look. They’d followed them down here, along with the draugr and golems, and their purple eyes gleamed unsettlingly in the darkness. They were hunched over nearly double to be able to fit down the stairs.

“They… they’re excited,” Gavin said. His brows were furrowed, though it was hard to see him in the darkness. “Or something like it.”

The words hung in the air. No one seemed to know what to say - all Jack knew was that the worry in Gavin’s voice made a chill run down his spine, and he hated to look back at the Endermen, standing silently with their long arms hanging by their sides. He could never forget that these creatures were monsters, even if they were under Gavin’s control.

“Wait outside,” Gavin ordered abruptly, and the three creatures turned and lumbered back up towards the light. Pressed close to his side, Jack felt Geoff shiver.

They moved on, just the draugr and zombies with them now.

Finally, the staircase ended - opening up into a stone chamber. It was a small room, and the weight of the earth above it seemed to bear down on them. It was completely empty, except for one thing in the centre of the room, taking up most of the space.

A portal.

It was the portal that had been painted on the wall and the stone tablet - stairs on the floor leading up to a square pit of some sort of stone-like material that Jack had never seen before. There were slots around the edges, and an Eye of Ender gleamed inside each one. And in the centre of this device, there was nothing but pitch blackness, like a bottomless hole.

Jack had never seen pure darkness before. It would have been impossible for him to describe - it was sheer _nothingness_ , simultaneously hypnotic yet terrible to look at. It gave him a headache to stare too long, and he glanced away. If he looked at it just in the very peripheral of his vision, he thought he could see stars and galaxies whirling in the blackness.

Everyone had gone very silent, transfixed by this strange device. Jack focused on them instead - the fear in Geoff’s face, the confusion on Ray’s, the intrigued curiosity in Ryan’s eyes. Gavin was close by Michael’s side, both of them staring at the square with knitted brows.

It was Michael who finally broke the silence, clearing his throat. When he spoke, his voice was very strained.

“Okay… so what the fuck is _that_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWESOME FANART FOR THIS CHAPTER AAA
> 
> [Gavin after the fight](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/147770587754/starlightsruby-i-dont-care-if-you-hate-me) by starlightsruby <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next were originally one long one.
> 
> Because I've broken them up, I'll post chapter 9 the day after tomorrow <3 DOUBLE UPDATE TIME

“It’s evil,” Geoff declared, “It’s unnatural, it’s not from this world - _oh my fucking gods,_ Ryan, don’t go _near_ it!”

Ryan huffed out a laugh, ignoring the other man’s hysterical shrieking as he slowly approached the portal. The others lingered back at the stairs, leaving him alone as he inched forwards. It was probably a bad idea - after all, they had no idea what this _was_ , or if it was dangerous - but he couldn’t help it. He was absolutely intrigued. This device was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

He couldn’t even tell what it was made of. As he got closer, he realised the stairs and base of the portal weren’t built of any mineral he’d ever seen, and he was from the fucking Stoneworld - he knew every type of rock there was.

He slowly placed his foot on the first step, leaning up to look into the swirling darkness. The portal, this _mystery_ , had wiped everything else from his mind. His anger over his fight with Gavin, his stress over being with the others again. How lonely he’d felt this morning, seeing Gavin sitting with Michael, Jack with Geoff, even Ray and Michael seeming to get along a little better. He’d hated himself for how left out he’d felt. He shouldn’t care.

But this, in front of him, was groundbreaking in every possible way, and the scientist in him was excited as hell by the prospect of something completely _new_. He moved forward, intrigued - the blackness in the centre of the portal was almost hypnotic as he stepped up towards it.

“Ryan!”

A hand seized his arm, tugging him back, and he turned to find that Geoff had actually darted up to the stairs to grab him. Ryan shook him off - the other man’s eyes were wide. He looked afraid, and there was something almost touching in his concern. Not that Ryan cared.

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I won’t touch it. It’s just… fascinating, isn’t it? Look, all around it.” He gestured at the Eyes of Ender that ringed the portal - twelve of them, gleaming in the dimly lit room. “Someone must have put them there. There’re slots they go in.”

“Seems like it,” Gavin cut in. Ryan glanced at him, but the other man had entered the chamber too, and was looking around, running his hand along the walls and kicking at the stone floor as he searched around the portal. He was glad not to meet Gavin’s eyes. After what’d happened last night, he couldn’t tell what was going on between them. Could only assume Gavin hated him now, if he hadn’t before.

“There’s something here,” Gavin called out, as he got to the back wall of the chamber, which had been cast in shadow. He crouched and scooped up something that’d been lying on the floor. “Hey! It’s a journal, or a book, or _something_ \- well that’s bloody convenient. It’s leatherbound, all sealed up - maybe we’ll actually get some solid answers.”

“Why would it be in _this_ room?” Geoff demanded. He’d inched back towards the stairs now, but the others had gathered their courage and were starting to move forward.

“Give it here,” Ryan said, coming back down the stairs. He held out a hand - but Gavin gave the journal to Michael to pass to him, avoiding getting close. Ryan raised his eyebrows, but made no comment, taking the leather book and tucking it safely in his bag.

“What is it?” Ray piped up, abruptly. Ryan turned and realised he was the one being addressed - Ray had moved closer to him, but his eyes were fixed on the device. “It’s a portal, right? It leads somewhere?”

“By all accounts, it seems like it,” Ryan replied.

There was a moment of silence - _complete_ silence. Down here, deep underground, absolutely nothing could be heard, and it sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine. No noise, _nothing_ , from the other side of whatever the fuck this was.

“That darkness in the middle… I’ve never seen anything like it,” Michael piped up suddenly. He sounded uncomfortable, nervous even - it was strange. Ryan had never seen him scared before. “Did the people of the Wild make it, or what? Where the fuck does it go?”

“One way to find out,” Gavin declared. He started for the stairs and with a noise of alarm, Jack grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back so roughly that everyone looked a bit shocked.

“Do not fucking go in there,” Jack snapped. There was something desperate in his voice, and Gavin stared up at him, eyes wide, before letting out a startled laugh.

“Oh - oh, no, not _me_ , Jack. My draugr - I can send them through, then see the other side. Good idea, eh?”

Jack looked relieved - and then a bit embarrassed. He let go of Gavin and glanced at the portal nervously. Geoff’s eyes were fixed on him, something sharp in them.

“You really wanna send something through there?” Jack asked. “We don’t know anything about what’s on the other end of it.”

“How else can we find out?” Gavin asked.

“We could read the book first and see what the fuck this actually is,” Ray pointed out.

“Or we could send something in right now, since we’re already here,” Gavin insisted. “No time to waste, right? I bet the beasts came from in there! Let’s find out.”

It probably was a smarter idea to wait - but Ryan’s curiosity was getting the better of him, and it seemed like everyone else’s was as well. Gavin was already beckoning two draugr forward, and no one moved to stop him, shifting out of the way and standing back - Geoff had grabbed Jack’s sleeve and was tugging him close, as far as they could get from the portal while still being in the room.

Gavin passed one of the draugr a torch. It was strange to see him place a hand on each of their shoulders as though they were real people, patting them on their skeletal backs before sending them off up the stairs. He was grinning - but Ryan saw him cast a little nervous glance at the portal as he stepped back and the draugr began to ascend.

Something funny built up in the pit of Ryan’s stomach as he watched the skeletons walk up the stairs, getting closer and closer to that weird darkness. A nervous fear, like they were trespassing somewhere forbidden - getting too close to something that wasn’t meant for human eyes. That same dread that permeated the whole Wild, that made it feel so _wrong_ , seemed to increase with every step the draugr took up the stone stairs.

But they reached the top - the feeling became nearly overwhelming, a persistent buzz at the top of his spine-

And then they stepped forward, and dropped down into the dark hole.

He heard Ray give a little hitch of breath, everyone leaning forward and straining to look. They had completely vanished, swallowed immediately by that _nothingness_ \- Ryan moved forward, running up the stairs after them, and leaned forward to see.

“No sign of them,” he said, turning back towards the others - “They’ve completely gone!”

Gavin had one hand up, fingertips pressed to his temple - a look of intense concentration on his face. They all watched him with baited breath - but barely ten seconds passed before his face suddenly twisted in pain and he crumpled to the ground with an agonised shout. It echoed throughout the tiny chamber, making all of them jump - he curled in on himself, and Jack and Michael both yelled in surprise and started forward.

“Gav?” Jack cried, crouching next to him and trying to tug him upright - Ryan took a step forward and then froze. Despite himself, something uneasy curled in his stomach - he could feel Gavin’s searing pain, not himself, but as a faint shock at the edge of his consciousness, an unease ringing right through their bond, letting him know that something was _wrong_. “Gav, what’s wrong?”

Gavin was clutching at his head. He was breathing too fast, pained little huffs he was gasping in and out rapidly - Jack kept pulling at him, calling his name and getting no response. Michael was crouching next to him too, hands fluttering uselessly about.

“Can’t,” Gavin gasped out suddenly.

“Gavin?” Jack sounded close to tears - his arms were wrapped around the other man tightly, clinging to him as he jerked sporadically.

“What’s happening?” Michael demanded, helplessly. “Geoff? What’s wrong with him?”

Geoff had stepped forward too, only to freeze - but at Michael’s voice he jolted back to attention. Jack was staring at him pleadingly too, now, and he finally moved forward and came to crouch in front of Gavin.

“Let go,” he said, voice quiet but firm. He reached out, hesitated - then shook himself again and grasped Gavin’s wrists, tugging his hands away from his face. “Gavin. Stop, let go, don’t try and stay connected to them. You hear me? _Let go_.”

For a tense moment, nothing happened, and at the edges of his mind Ryan could feel the pain continue, lightning-sharp and wracking Gavin in bolts. But finally, like a knot coming loose, it released him, and he slumped over into Jack’s arms.

“Fuck,” Jack said - he leaned in to check on him, and let out a sigh of relief. “He’s still breathing.”

“Gavin?” Michael’s voice was low and soft. He was blocking Ryan’s view as he leaned in to check on Gavin - across the room, Ray was straining to see too. “You okay, bud?”

Gavin murmured something indistinguishable, but if Ryan had to guess it was something along the lines of ‘ _bloody unpleasant_.’ Geoff scoffed, standing up again and taking a step back.

“What happened?” he asked, turning to Ryan and the portal.

“They vanished,” Ryan replied. He didn’t like how a knot had formed in his stomach at the sight of Gavin in such pain - was glad that it was gone, now. He turned abruptly away. “He can’t reach them that far.”

“But where’d they _go_?” Ray insisted, and Ryan hesitated.

“I have no idea,” he replied slowly. “But it seems he can’t control them. Whatever this… this doorway is, it traverses this world. I’ve researched the Wild gift before, and it should extend to anywhere in the five kingdoms…”

He trailed off. There was a tense silence. They had been wary of the portal before, but at this sudden new development, there seemed something lurking and ominous to its darkness. Something dangerous.

Michael and Jack were still fussing over Gavin - Ryan descended the stairs and moved to look. Gavin’s eyes were shut, and he was rubbing his temples again, his breathing still ragged and sharp.

“Does it still hurt?” Ryan demanded - aimed for brusque, but ended up glancing on awkward.

Gavin’s eyes cracked open a little.

“Yeah,” he croaked out. “Headache. Whopper of one.”

Michael reached out and brushed a hand over Gavin’s forehead. Ryan let out a loud scoff.

“He doesn’t have a fucking fever,” he began, but froze along with the others when there suddenly came a loud and terrible _hum_ from behind them - from the portal. It was a noise unlike any Ryan had heard before - a sensation more than a sound, a roaring so deep in his ears that it seemed to reverberate through his whole skull - and it filled him with the same dread that the roar of the beast had.

Michael rose, drawing his sword as he spun around to face the portal - Ray’s hand went for the bow at his back, too.

“Um, what the fuck,” he said.

Ryan raised a hand and motioned for the golems, who were waiting in the stairwell, to enter the room. He felt more reassured when they made their way to his side and raised their fists - but a second later, the Endermen also entered the room, and he stiffened. They were so tall their heads nearly brushed the ceiling, and their enormous dark frames cast the room into shadow. Their eyes were clearly fixed on the portal.

“Gavin,” he said, looking down at him. “Did you summon them?”

Gavin sat up a little. He winced, hand going up to rub his temples - but then shook his head.

“I can’t,” he replied, voice still soft and pained. For a moment Ryan wasn’t sure what he meant - but then he realised the draugr were standing mutely in the corner, hands hanging limply by their sides, like Gavin’s gift had stopped working and he could no longer give them orders. The alarm built in the pit of his stomach, and he drew his own sword as the humming began to get louder.

Jack and Geoff exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Oh, gods, we pissed it off!” Geoff shrieked. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Go,” Ryan agreed, and Geoff didn’t need to be told twice. He made for the stairs.

“Ray, get Gav out,” Michael said. His eyes were still fixed on the portal. Ray hesitated, but as the humming noise increased he nodded and moved to help Jack pull Gavin to his feet. He swayed unsteadily as he got upright and Ray looped an arm around his waist, supporting him as he took him over to the stairs, Jack taking up the rear.

Michael and Ryan were left standing in the empty room. They glanced at each other, swords drawn, both knowing they weren’t leaving until they knew what the fuck was about to come out of the portal.

The humming reached some unbearable peak, until Ryan nearly thought his head was going to explode.

Then the top of a black skull rose out of the portal - and another, and another. Heads, then shoulders - slowly emerging into view.

Skeletons.

Ryan had never seen the first beast, and he’d only barely caught a glimpse of the dragon as it flew overhead - but suddenly he understood exactly what the others had been trying to describe. The skeletons were pitch black and trailed some dark energy, like smoke rising from burning charcoal. Their eyes burned a furious violet, and there was a terrible sense of _wrongness_ to them.

Most alarming of all, they were all holding black swords that seemed to shimmer with the same darkness.

For a moment the two of them could only stand, watching in horror as the silent figures rose. But then the first stepped out of the portal and onto the stairs, and they jerked into action.

“What the fuck are these things?” Michael hissed, raising his sword. “It’s coming towards us.”

Ryan backed up, Michael following - more and more skeletons spilled out of the portal. There seemed to be an endless stream of them. As the foremost one advanced down the steps towards him, he motioned for the golems to intercept it.

The skeletons did not seem angry, or even actively hostile - their eyes were fixed straight ahead, their swords were raised but not swinging - but as soon as the golems moved to block the first one’s path, it attacked, slashing its sword in three quick, decisive slices. The blade cut right through the metal of the golem’s chest, plunging into its inner workings - there was a sparking sound of dying robotics, and then the red lights of its eyes fizzled out as it crumpled to the floor.

Well, shit.

For a moment Ryan wasn’t quite sure what to think. Nothing should’ve been able to cut into the golems - _nothing_. But the dark blades of these figures had sliced through it like butter.

“Fuck,” was all he could think to say, and turned to Michael to find his eyes flashing angrily. He realised immediately what the other man was about to do, and held out a hand to keep him back. “Michael, wait-“

Too late. With a furious roar Michael charged forward and swung his own blade at the black skeleton. Their swords met with a ringing _clash_ \- the enchanted diamond blade didn’t break, but the skeleton’s arm didn’t so much as tremble as they exchanged blows, even against the full force of the Alpine king’s strength.

Strength and power were Michael’s forte, but each of his great strikes seemed to have absolutely no effect - either the creature blocked them with ease, or it dodged each with a carefully placed duck or sidestep. If its face wasn’t so completely blank Ryan might’ve thought it was mocking them.

Suddenly, in one vicious dart, the creature struck forwards - Ryan’s heart nearly stopped, but Michael sprang backwards out of the way just in time. The sword caught the tip of his cloak and sliced through the fur; it sizzled where it’d cut, the cloak blackening and seeming nearly burnt around the slash.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and retreated as more of Ryan’s golems moved in to block the draugr’s path. They’d observed how it’d killed the other golem, and learned from it; they avoided its strikes or blocked them with their arms where they could, protecting their chests and the redstone circuitry inside, crowding around to circle it and swinging heavy punches where they could.

Surrounded and face with a dozen of the metal beasts, the skeleton soon crumpled under their blows - but there were more of them coming down the stairs, too many to count, a sea of black and purple.

“There’re too many!” Ryan hissed. “Go, go, run!”

Michael hesitated - but it was a fucking _army_ coming towards them, the figures still rising endlessly from the portal, and after a moment he nodded. The two of them turned and ran towards the stairs. They passed the Endermen and draugr, standing silently and watching - Ryan cast them a glance. They weren’t moving, but they weren’t attacking _them_ , either, so whatever was going on with Gavin’s gift, his initial orders for the mobs not to be hostile must still be in place. He barely had time to think about it, anyway - he could hear the shuffling march of the skeletons behind them, the ring of hundreds of footsteps on stone echoing through the tunnel. It felt like being surrounded by ghosts.

It seemed to take forever to get up the steps. Running _up_ was hard, and in the darkness it was difficult to see. They stumbled a good few times, nearly tripping in their haste to get out, sprinting for that tiny square of light above them. Ryan’s legs were burning by the time he finally reached the top and stumbled into the open, fresh air.

The others were sitting around in the clearing outside. They rose as he exited, alarmed - Gavin was still sitting on the floor, knees drawn up and head resting on them, but Geoff had his sword drawn and Ray his bow.

“What’s going on?” Geoff demanded. “We heard some fucking weird sounds down there-“

“Fucking _run_ , they’re after us!” Michael yelled.

“What’s after you?” Jack asked. He’d been sitting near Gavin but came forward now to peer over Ryan’s shoulder-

Only for a black arrow to shoot up out of the darkness of the basement. Jack flung himself sideways to avoid it, falling to the ground - it was poorly aimed, the angle of the stairs making it difficult, but Ryan turned to see the glinting, purple eyes of the skeletons in hot pursuit. Fuck, they were fast.

“Dark draugr,” he snapped. “A lot of them. They came from the portal and they can kill my golems. We need to get out of here-”

Another volley of arrows came from the darkness. Ryan threw himself one way, Michael the other, and he saw the sudden panic on everyone’s faces as they realised exactly how deep the shit they had just fallen into was.

Before anyone had time to plan, or make another move, the draugr were emerging into the clearing. Arrows seemed to be everywhere, whistling past them and leaving them ducking and dodging for cover, scattering every which way. As Ryan backed away he saw one bury itself into the trunk of a tree, right to the fletching - the tree turned dark around it, like a spreading poison, seeming to wither on the spot.

There were too many of them.

Ryan thought fast. There were still two golems who he’d left waiting outside; he summoned them over and touched each on the chest before sending them into the heart of the fray. The skeletons seemed to identify them as the nearest threat and converged around them - but their eyes were glowing, brighter and brighter, a red light beginning to glow in their chests and seeping out between every panel in the metal.

“Get as far as you can!” Ryan yelled, backing up himself-

Just as the two golems exploded, exactly as he’d planned. The blast was tremendous, an enormous flare of heat and light. Ryan turned and ran, glancing over his shoulder as he did so.

Geoff had been closest to Gavin. As the skeletons approached he’d grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet, and now Ryan saw him dragging the fool off into the trees, stumbling from the force of the blast but pushing on.

Michael and Ray were together, heading in another direction-

And through the fire and smoke and cloud of black ash that was slowly billowing through the clearing, the last thing he saw was Jack, forced away from the others in all the commotion, turning and fleeing in the only direction he could - down a dark, shadowy, narrow path into the thick jungle, alone.

 

* * *

 

Michael flinched as the explosions rang out behind them, making the entire ground tremble and sending a wave of heat against his back. Beside him, he saw Ray stumble, and reached out to grab his arm, dragging him along after him.

“Come on!” he yelled as he ran, shoving a tree branch aside and ducking under it. They were headed deep into the Wild. It wasn’t easy running through the undergrowth, but he had motivation in the form of, y’know, the enormous skeleton army that was hot on their heels.

“Where are we going?” Ray shouted back, forcing the words out between grunts and curses as he stumbled over the uneven ground and long, thick grass that covered everything.

“Fuck if I know!” Michael replied. “Away from _those_ , whatever they are!”

He dared a glance over his shoulder, but the jungle was too thick, and he couldn’t see if they were being followed. He sure wasn’t about to stop and check.

“We need to get them separated,” he continued. “As a group they’re too strong!”

He realised he was still holding onto Ray’s arm, but the other man was moving more slowly than him, and he was scared if he let go, he’d fall behind. He shifted his grip, sliding it down to Ray’s wrist instead, and pulling him along as he took a sharp turn through a hanging curtain of vines, hoping it’d throw off anything following them. Then again, who the fuck knew how those creatures worked - maybe they could smell humans, or sense them. Anything was fucking possible at this rate.

They stumbled through more shrubs, into a darker area of the forest as the trees grew closer and began to close over them - only for Ray to skid to a stop, Michael coming up short next to him.

“Look out!” Ray said, yanking him back, and Michael realised that the ground in front of them fell away into another steep drop - he looked down, but saw nothing but darkness at the bottom of the slope. They didn’t have a torch.

“Shit,” Michael hissed - he glanced left and right, but the cliff was surrounded by nothing but thick jungle. “Into the trees, then...”

Ray had turned to look behind them, and he pulled his bow from his back with a curse.

“I can see them coming,” he said, and Michael’s stomach dropped. He turned as well, raising his sword, in time to see three dark draugr pushing their way through the trees. Their black swords cut through wood and leaf alike with terrifying ease, and they moved in total silence.

Michael took a step back, only to curse as the edge of the incline crumbled under his heel. There was nowhere to go.

“We’re gonna have to fight them,” he declared.

Ray was already knocking an arrow.

“Already on it,” he said, and fired.

The skeleton in the lead easily swung its sword and cut the arrow clean in half before it could hit its chest - but Ray was already firing again, and again, so fast that Michael barely saw him move. It was the speed that was key - the skeletons, fast as they were, barely had time to dodge, and when he struck one of them in the mouth it crumbled.

“The face,” Michael cried excitedly, “Aim for the face!”

Ray’s mouth was set in a grim, determined line, his eyes intently focused on his targets as his arm moved back and forth, nocking and shooting, again and again as the skeletons advanced. Another was struck in the eye, and fell - Michael hardly knew where to look.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but the _sight_ of it made some exhilarated thrill shoot through his chest. And the thing was, he’d been so focused on fighting with Ray the last eight months - and in the years before that they’d not had much time to see each other since Ray was crowned - that sometimes he forgot how damn impressive he was. He could shoot, and he was smart, and he was a lot stronger than even Michael gave him credit for, his arm and aim not faltering no matter how many times he drew the heavy bowstring back.

That wasn’t even considering his gift and some of the things Michael had seen him do with it. And Michael had seen plenty of people stare at him when they saw him using his own strength, but now he was the one left watching, transfixed, as Ray fired one last arrow and managed to catch the final skeleton in the side of the head. It stumbled, and he quickly shot another one off, this one getting it right in the hollow of its throat. It fell to the ground where it writhed a moment before crumbling into black ash just as the others had.

The whole fight had taken place in a disconcerting silence - now, Michael finally focused again and heard his own harsh pants and Ray’s heavy breathing as he lowered his bow and shook his arm out. He blinked slowly a few times, seeming almost dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe _he_ was the one who’d just done that.

Michael turned to him with a big grin. His heart was racing.

“Ray,” he began - but before he could get another word out, a fourth dark draugr suddenly burst from the thick trees next to them, swinging its sword.

“Fuck!” Michael yelled. It’d appeared out of nowhere, a black and silent blur. He acted on instinct, lunging forward and flicking his own sword up to block the blow before it could hit Ray.

Their blades met. The skeleton might be barely anything but bones, but somehow the force of the clash rang out so heavily that it made _Michael’s_ arm ache. It stunned him for a moment-

And Ray, Ray had stumbled backwards, flinching at the sudden shock of the skeleton’s attack. His foot slipped off the incline and he barely had time to let out a yell of surprise before he was tumbling down the steep slope.

Michael saw him vanish out of the corner of his eye, and spun to look at him.

“ _Ray_!” he screamed, but the other man had already slipped down into the darkness, and Michael could only hear the echo of his shout and distant thuds and crashes as he fell down the hill.

His heart nearly stopped. For a moment, shock - then his heart burned, and his whole body seemed to slowly ignite with a spreading fire, anger settling over his mind with a blanket until he could barely think straight, clinging only to the fact that Ray had fallen, and it was this _thing’s_ fault, and he was going to kill it.

With a furious roar, he mustered all his strength and slid his blade free, swinging it in a powerful arc, the full force of his gift behind it. The skeleton blocked the blow, but barely - its arm shook and faltered for the first time, and if it was any earthly creature it might’ve seemed surprised.

Michael didn’t give it a chance to recover. He lunged forward, stabbing out again - the point of his sword cut through the skeleton’s side, and it doubled over - he wrenched the blade free and struck it again. Lopped off an arm, that crumbled away immediately - then its sword hand, then swiped through the creature’s knees before chopping its head off. It fell to the ground in pieces, disappearing into a pile of ash, but Michael didn’t pause to savour his victory. As soon as he saw it crumble, he turned and leaped down the slope after Ray.

In hindsight, that was probably a bad idea. He stumbled, barely able to keep his balance on what was nearly a vertical slope. For a few minutes he jogged, unable to stop running lest he lose his balance - rocks and twigs slipping under his feet on the crumbling, loose dirt of the ground. Finally he tripped and caught himself on his side, sliding and rolling the rest of the painful way down. His cloak took the brunt of it, but he felt his side scrape along rock and the ground skin his hands painfully.

Finally he hit the ground below with a _thud,_ and rolled a little way, the wind knocked out of him. He lay, panting - and realised that it hadn’t been too far. It was very, very dark down here, but after a few moments his eyes adjusted somewhat, and he could just make out his surroundings. They were in another low area of the forest, the floor covered in damp mulch that stank of rot and mildew, and the twisting forms of enormous trees loomed around him. He thought he heard the patter of animal feet scuttle away somewhere beside him, but paid it no heed as he painfully sat up and brushed himself down. Bumps and bruises, but nothing broken.

“Ray?” he croaked out, still getting his breath back. “Ray, where are you?”

For a moment there was nothing but total silence, and Michael’s stomach dropped. The fear that gripped him at the thought that Ray had broken his neck, or hit his head too hard - the possibilities that raced through his mind, each of them more morbid and distressing than the last - made him feel physically ill.

But then - a shuffling noise in the darkness.

“Michael?” Ray’s familiar voice called out, and Michael slumped over, his breath leaving him in a rush, the relief that flooded through him nearly overwhelming. “Shit, you down here?”

His voice was coming from a little way to the left. Michael scrambled to his feet and stumbled over, groping blindly about in the dark. As he got nearer he spied a dark form, and rushed over, dropping down next to Ray, who was sitting up a little.

“Ray!” he cried.

He could barely see him in the dark, and reached out to him, trying to see if he was okay - his hands landed on Ray’s chest, ran down his arms, before he felt his way up to his face and brushed a hand over his cheek in a motion that was probably far too tender. He couldn’t help himself. It had struck him in a second, when he saw Ray fall - the sudden realisation that he _couldn’t_ die, not now - not when they were on such bad terms with each other, not when their last interactions were their fights and all the horrible things they’d said. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without Ray, even after all that had happened between them.

“Michael?” Ray’s voice was small and uncertain and as Michael’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he realised just how close their faces were - Ray was staring at him, his own eyes huge, pupils blown wide in the darkness. His hand was still on Ray’s cheek, and he let it drop a bit awkwardly.

“Are you okay?” It came out in barely a whisper, something far too vulnerable in it - Ray gave a jerking nod.

“I… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine I think. I twisted my ankle, it hurts like fuck - but nothing serious. What about you? What happened up there, did you kill that thing?”

“I did.” Michael looked up and grimaced. He could see the top of the cliff above them, and the faint light of the sun beyond that, but they might as well have been looking at the moon because there was no way in hell they’d be able to get up there. “Shit, that’s a long way we fell. You’re sure it’s not broken?”

“I can still move it,” Ray said. His leg was stretched out in front of him - he rotated his foot and let out a hiss of pain. The sound tugged at something deep in Michael’s chest and he reached out automatically, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. What hurt even more was the look of sheer surprise the other man shot him - how stunned he seemed that Michael _cared_.

And he did care. He cared a hell of a lot - had never stopped, really. But now, more than ever, he wanted to fix things between them. He was just so _tired_ of this. And more than anything, he missed his best friend.

For the last six months it had been too easy to fall into the trap of believing it was easier to stay distant. That somehow trading barbs with Ray was a way of defending himself, of making himself feel better about the situation they were in. It was easier to hate each other for petty reasons, for the insults and fights, than to have to address the awkwardness of Ray’s feelings for him, of how he was acting around Michael now, of how they were forced to pretend to be together.

But after what Jack had said to him - after how Gavin had brought up so many of their childhood memories - Michael couldn’t see Ray as an enemy. He _wasn’t_. Things were different now, yes, and complicated, and messy - but Ray was still the same person. Still his friend, still someone he was close to - still, probably, the most important person in the world to him.

He couldn’t keep holding onto his anger. He wanted _that_ back, no matter what else happened.

Suddenly there was movement above them at the cliff, a dark shape peering down at them. It was so far up Michael couldn’t make it out, but he figured from the silence it must be one of the dark draugr.

“Get back,” he hissed, and pushed Ray back against the edge of the slope. Hidden in the shadows, they waited a moment - he could feel Ray’s chest heaving as he breathed heavily, his body warm against Michael’s down in this cold ravine - after a moment, the shape above them retreated, but he knew they couldn’t risk staying here. There was too much of a chance something would come down after them.

“We need to move,” he whispered, and Ray nodded.

“What the fuck is this thing? A pit?”

“No, just a lower area of the jungle, I think. Hopefully there’s a way we can climb back up - or the others will come and find us. For now we need a place to stop, just for a bit, until those damn skeletons spread out more. One on one we can kill them, we know that at least.”

He got to his feet and heaved Ray up next to him, steadying him as he wobbled on one leg.

“Can you walk?” he asked, worriedly.

Ray tested taking a step and hissed immediately.

“Fuck. No. I mean, not really - not fast.”

“I got you.” Michael wrapped an arm around his waist, supporting most of his weight. Ray was very tense by his side, and clearly felt awkward - but Michael made no comment, and after a moment Ray put an arm around his shoulders and leaned on him. They began to hobble forward, into the darkness.

It was unsettling down here. They were surrounded on most sides by enormous trees or the walls of the cliff around them, and it was so hard to see in the dark that Michael had to put his free hand out in front of him and feel about to make sure they wouldn’t bump into anything. Even once his eyes adjusted, all he could see were the dark forms of plants and the long tendrils of vines that hung down around them like arms reaching for them from the sky. At some point, what seemed a hell of a lot like a giant snake rushed along a branch past them, making both of them jump and cling to each other.

“Fuck,” Ray hissed, and let out a shaky laugh. “I’d feel a lot better if Gavin was here. At least he knows his way around.”

“He can probably see in the dark with those freaky eyes of his,” Michael muttered.

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Ray asked, and Michael glanced at him, hesitating suddenly.

They didn’t hear much about witches in the Alps - they never came up that far, so even if the people were quite superstitious, it wasn’t really something they knew much about. In the desert, he wasn’t sure what they thought of the beings. And wasn’t sure now, if it was a secret - Gavin’s to tell.

“The Wild is magic,” he settled on - a rather lame explanation, but Ray didn’t push it. “I think he wants to ask you some stuff later, though - about the past Kings and Queens.”

“Would’ve thought he’d ask you. You guys are… pal-y.”

_Pal-y_. What the fuck did that mean? But there was no resentment in Ray’s voice, the way Michael might once have expected. Just a mild, resigned curiosity.

“You know me,” he replied. “Didn’t pay attention in history class. I figured you’d know more about the timeline of the Wild leadership.”

Ray huffed out something close to a laugh.

“So your goofing off in class is finally coming back to bite you, huh?”

“Hey, I just killed one of those black skeletons. You should be glad I focused on my swordsmanship when it just saved your ass.”

“Are you forgetting that I killed _three_ right before you did?” Ray pointed out, eyebrows rising, and even Michael had to laugh.

“Touché…” he trailed off as he spied something up ahead. “Look. There’s a light in the distance.”

Indeed, a thin sliver of sunlight was visible - it seemed like, somewhere up ahead between the trees, the terrain thinned out or opened above them. It was their best chance to get out of here, and Michael hoisted Ray up against his side and they hurried towards it, reinvigorated.

Unfortunately, that did not last long.

The light was further than it seemed - a faint glimmer in the distance, nearly a mirage, but even with all their efforts to  get there, Ray could only move slowly, and the uneven terrain didn’t help. Before long he was slowing even further, and when Michael looked over at him his face was tight. He came to a halt.

“Shit - is your ankle getting worse?”

“I think it’s swelled up,” Ray replied. His face was white with pain, and when he tried to take another step it drained even further. Michael grabbed his arms, steadying him so he could keep his foot off the ground.

“I’ll carry you,” he declared, but Ray pulled a face and shook his head.

“I’ll be okay - let’s just stop and rest for a minute?”

Michael hesitated. He looked around, but in the darkness and with how silent the creatures were, he couldn’t tell if any of the skeletons had followed them down here. He didn’t think they had, but the last thing they needed was for someone to sneak up on them.

Still - there weren’t any immediately around them, and he looked around further and spied a large, hollow log nearby. It’d serve as a good hiding place if they paused, just for a few moments.

“In there,” he said, pointing. “But we can’t stay long.”

Ray nodded, and hopped along with Michael's help. They crawled into the hollow space and he let out a sigh of relief as he stretched his leg out in front of him. Michael stayed crouched next to him, sword beside him and ready to spring into action if anything happened.

Ray huffed out a laugh.  
  
“I’m more worried about one of those giant spiders being in here than I am about the skeletons,” he said.

A shiver ran down Michael’s spine.

“Gods, don’t mention _that_. Ugh.”

For a moment they paused, catching their breath. It was terribly silent around them, and the sudden fear struck Michael that here in the depths of the Wild they might easily be lost. None of Gavin’s mobs were around here - perhaps no one would ever find them, if they wandered in too deep. He shook those thoughts away - definitely not something he should be worrying about right now.

“This is fucked up,” Ray blurted out eventually. Michael turned to him - he was staring directly ahead, his fists clenched. “We never really thought about it, did we - what destroyed the Wild. What wiped out _everything_. Everyone just… took it for granted that whatever happened, it was in the past. We never considered it might come _back_. And now - dragons and beasts and an army of skeletons. All five kings running and hiding like rats.”

“Just our luck that the end times occur during our reign,” Michael muttered, and Ray scoffed out a breath.

“But really. Aren’t you…”

He trailed off, seeming embarrassed, but Michael knew what he’d been getting at.

_Scared. Aren’t you scared?_

The warriors of the Alps were brave, bordering on reckless. You had to be, to survive there. His whole life, the expectation of leadership had hung over him. He’d never once seen his father scared - let alone his mother.

So fear - not for himself. Fear came at the thought of losing those he loved. And he’d been scared just now - terrified - when he thought Ray was hurt.

But he didn’t know how to put that into words. He swallowed hard.

“Whatever’s going on here,” he replied, slowly, “Whatever this is, I know we’ll deal with it. For all Ryan’s reputation, he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. If anyone can solve this, it’s him. Gavin killed a beast singlehandedly and managed to beat all four kings to the crown. You’ve seen what he’s built here - out of _nothing!_ And Geoff…”

He trailed off. Ray knew exactly how much he admired Geoff - had since he was old enough to follow the goings-on of the Plains prince, and then the King once Geoff had inherited. Even the games hadn’t marred that, despite Geoff’s rather unimpressive behaviour during them.

“He killed a dragon,” he continued. “And you and I, we’re not too useless ourselves, are we? So out of every group of people who could be trying to stop these fucking things - well, I believe we’ve got a pretty damn good shot.”

Ray looked away. There was a long silence, and Michael’s heart was pounding. His own words had reassured him, but he couldn’t tell if they’d done the same for Ray.

Finally, the other man let out a bitter little laugh.

“But look at us now,” he said, quietly. “Hiding in a fucking log. Gods know where the others are right now - if they’re even alive!”

“They’re alive,” Michael replied firmly. “They’re fine, we _know_ that.”

It was true. He could feel pain and fear through the bond, but everyone was still connected - no one was dead, or even seriously injured.

“And Jack?” Ray pointed out, and Michael’s stomach dropped.

He was so used to the other man just _being_ there that he forgot, sometimes, that he wasn’t actually part of the link - that if something happened to him, they wouldn’t know.

“Shit,” he hissed, before he could stop himself - he saw alarm flash across Ray’s face. “I… I’m sure he’s fine. He’s with Geoff, right? He’ll take care of him.”

“He wasn’t with Geoff when those things attacked,” Ray replied. “He was standing on his own.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. A thrumming nervousness had struck up, deep in his gut, at the prospect of something happening to the other man. He wasn’t sure why - he hadn’t even spent that much time with Jack. But he’d watched him, during the games and now. With Geoff, and with Gavin, and Ryan, even - he might not be a king, but he’d still _connected_ with all of them. He was important, too.

“I don’t want anything to happen to him,” Ray murmured, so quietly that Michael wasn’t sure he’d been meant to hear it.

He looked away, helpless. There was nothing they could do, no way to _know_ until they met up with the others. For now - for now, at least, he and Ray were together. It would’ve been terrible to be alone.

After a moment, Ray shook himself. He took a deep breath, schooled his face blank and determined again, and took off his backpack, getting out the first aid kit and a bandage. He leaned forward and wrestled his boot off, moving to wrap his ankle, and Michael quickly shifted to help.

“Here, let me,” he said - something strained passed across Ray’s face.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve got it.”

“I’ve done this heaps of times before,” Michael insisted. He tried to take the bandage, but Ray wouldn’t let go of it. ”There are lots of injuries in the Alps.”

“No really, it’s fine.”

“It’s always harder to do it yourself-”

“I’ve _got it_ ,” Ray snapped, and yanked so hard that the fabric ripped a little. Michael stared at it - then at Ray, whose eyes were wide and desperate. He didn’t look angry, though, not really - that was what pushed Michael over the edge. What stopped him snapping back, and letting the cycle of anger begin again - but also what stopped him just giving in because it was easier.

Instead, he let the dam break. He let go of it, let all the pain and sadness and _loneliness_ of the last six months flow in and wash over him. He’d been holding it back for so long - denying it, or covering it with anger. But it was real, and it was there, and it _hurt_.

“ _Please_ -” it burst out abruptly, too raw, nearly pitiful.  “Please, Ray, just - don’t push me away.”

Ray froze. Michael couldn’t meet his gaze - he squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched hard. Felt, suddenly, he’d bared himself too much. For all Jack’s assurances that Ray was just as upset as him, the sudden fear struck him that maybe it was all over. Maybe there really was nothing left but _hate_.

He heard Ray take a breath, and finally dared to open his eyes. The other man was staring at him, eyes huge and uncertain.

“I…” Ray began - his voice faltered, and he tried again. “I thought that was what you wanted. After all, you… you said I was the one who _made things awkward_.”

Oh, gods. He had, hadn’t he. He shook his head slowly.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean… I never wanted _this_.” He gestured helplessly between them. “I _hate_ this, Ray. And I… I know things can’t get back to exactly how they were, but… this anger, this hate, the constant fighting…”

"I’m sick of it,” Ray said, and Michael barked out a hysterical sort of laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sick of it too.”

“So what is it?” Ray asked. His voice was nervous, hesitant - barely daring to be hopeful. “That you want.”

Michael bit his lip. For so long he’d struggled to articulate exactly how the fuck he felt about Ray, about this entire situation - it wasn’t clear to himself, so gods knew how he could even begin to explain it to other people.

But Gavin - Gavin had helped. Both in what he’d told Michael, that night in his room, and through their little quest into the temple together - the memories he’d brought back up.

He’d finally let himself think about all this. Properly - _honestly_. And now, now he was ready to be honest with Ray.

“I want us to be friends again,” he said. “I want us to be _close_ again. Because Ray - I do love you, I’m just not sure in what way yet. As a friend - my _best_ friend - of course I do. As a brother or as - as something more - I’m not sure yet. But I need space to figure it out that isn’t _this_. I don’t want to give you false hope, Ray, but I never want to lie to you. And I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want straight away. I wish I could. But it’s not my fault, or your fault. So we gotta stop blaming each other and just… see what happens with all this. Because I miss you. A fucking lot-”

He broke off, voice cracking a little, too much let out. Ray was looking away, and even in the darkness Michael could see his eyes were bright with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, finally.

“I’m sorry too,” Ray choked out, and gave a shaky laugh. “I’ve been an idiot. I was… embarrassed, I guess, that you didn’t… didn’t love me back. So it was easier to act like I didn’t still love you. But I _do_ , Michael - you need to know that. No more lies. I still do, and it… it might make things weird between us-”

“Can’t be worse than they already are,” Michael replied, but his levity covered the sudden thrill that had shot through him at those words. It was terrifying, because he wasn’t sure _why._ Once he might’ve hoped for Ray’s feelings to have faded - it sure as hell would make things easier. But now - now he was _glad_ , and though he barely dared to feel it, almost _excited_. Like some possibility was out there, too far away for him to see, or imagine, or understand clearly yet. But _there_ , if he let himself be open to it.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued firmly. “Especially now, with all this shit going on. Maybe your feelings will change or… or maybe mine will.” He saw Ray’s eyes widen, and gave a small smile. “Either way - let’s stay friends?”

“So you don’t hate me,” Ray whispered, too vulnerable, and Michael shook his head furiously.

“Of course not. I never could. And you don’t hate me?”

“The opposite, you idiot,” Ray said. And then started laughing, a bit hysterically. Michael couldn’t help it; he started laughing too - because here they were sitting in a fucking _log_ in the dark, having a conversation they should’ve had months ago. It all seemed so simple, now they’d just been honest.

He moved forward suddenly - couldn’t help himself - and tugged Ray into his arms, clinging to him tightly. Ray froze, but almost immediately hugged him back. He was trembling, and Michael squeezed him closer - felt the other man bury his face into his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around Michael’s waist. He could feel Ray’s chest, heaving against his with every shaking breath. Gods - it’d been too long - it was good to just be _near_ him again. He let his eyes slip shut, heedless of the danger for the moment - it was dark, and the Wild’s magic bore down on them, and somewhere out there in the shadows lurked the black draugr - but here, at least, at _last_ , with Ray - it felt like things might be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Gavin and the Endermen](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/148092478074/transvavsquad-i-dont-care-how-much-you-hate) by transvavsquad - thank you so much for the beautiful fanart <3


	9. Chapter 9

One moment, Gavin was stumbling along after Geoff - the other man’s grip painfully tight around his wrist, dragging him to keep up. His head hurt so much that he couldn’t focus on anything around him - trees whirling past, branches and twigs scratching at his face and snagging on his clothes - a pounding pulse of _pain_ behind his eyes, drumming everything else from his brain. He was barely aware of putting one foot in front of the other-

And then, the next thing he knew, he came back to himself and realised he was slung over someone’s shoulder, being carried. He could see the ground moving past under him, and someone’s arm was up over his waist, holding him roughly. They were moving quite fast.

He groaned - his head was still throbbing, and everything was fuzzy. He couldn’t quite remember how they’d got there.

Then he registered the situation, and it was fear that flared through his chest. He thrashed, trying to get free, to twist and see who was carrying him - whoever it was stopped.

“Gavin.” It was Geoff’s voice, and Gavin fell still. For a moment, that was all the reassurance he needed. Geoff meant _safe_. “Calm down, it’s me.”

“Fuck,” Gavin hissed. “What… what happened?”

“You were slowing us down. Seemed like you were on the verge of passing out.” Geoff’s voice was tight, almost awkward - and suddenly, Gavin remembered. This wasn’t his friend any more. This wasn’t his king. Everything had changed - the relief that’d wrapped around him like a blanket melted away as he remembered _exactly_ where he and Geoff stood with each other nowadays. He felt sick, and thumped at Geoff’s back with one fist.

“Put me down.”

“You sure you can walk?”

“For gods’ sake, Geoff, I’m about to throw up. Put me down right now unless you want vom all over your back.”

Geoff rather hurriedly deposited him on the ground. Gavin knelt down, doubled over and hoped his head would stop spinning. It didn’t, and after a moment he leaned forward and threw up anyway before turning away and hunching in on himself.

His head felt strange. Really, really fucking strange. It hurt, yes, but it wasn’t just that.

_No gift_ , he realised. That was what was so strange. Over the last eight months, he’d gotten used to being constantly connected to all the mobs in the Wild. Now he couldn’t feel them at all, and it was like losing a sense - it made him feel unbalanced, dizzy almost. And it _scared_ him, because he was so used to that control - to knowing where, around him, each creature was - knowing he could wordlessly summon them if he needed to. Without that ability, he felt uncomfortably vulnerable.

Geoff was standing behind him, shifting awkwardly. Gavin couldn’t look at him.

“Think it was the breakfast you made us,” he joked finally, weakly, and heard Geoff give a little scoff.

“Excuse you, my porridge was fine. You’ve always had a weak stomach - you fucking throw up at the drop of a hat.”

Gavin couldn’t even bring himself to laugh, especially when Geoff’s voice faltered away as he seemed to realise he’d gotten too familiar, bringing up their past together and how they’d teased each other. The little things he knew about Gavin. He’d used to cook for him, Gavin remembered - they’d had palace chefs, but sometimes Geoff would take him and Jack out and make them something. He’d always looked forward to those times.

He sniffed, and looked away, reaching up to rub his temples. This headache was the last thing he needed. He’d already been messed up this morning - he’d barely slept after what’d happened with Ryan.

_Ryan_.

He wanted more than anything to explain himself to the other man - to try and make him realise that he’d been genuinely convinced that Ryan was the one trying to manipulate him, that they’d both been playing each other and things had just gone too far. But it seemed quite clear now that Ryan just hated him, and that wasn’t about to change. Some things couldn’t be fixed, and Gavin was starting to think that this was one of them. It sucked, because under all the lies and tricks and suspicion, he had felt like he genuinely connected with the other man. The things that’d happened to both of them made it easy to empathise with him.

And then, of course, there was Jack.

When the other man had approached him today, Gavin had just sort of… _panicked_ , because Jack was _saying things_ and making him _hope_ , and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t _let_ himself, because if Jack wasn’t saying what Gavin had thought he was - if he wasn’t asking for them to try and work this out, to get back together - he thought it might break him, to reach for a second chance only to have it snatched away. He’d thought maybe he was misunderstanding things - that was why he’d brought up moving on. He’d expressed it very poorly, as usual when he got flustered about something - but he’d needed Jack to know that that was what he was doing, what he _needed_ to do. He couldn’t cling to the past on a _maybe_. Only if they were _all_ on board, if they all wanted to give this another shot…

And that was the other problem. The _all_. Because it wasn’t just him and Jack - Geoff and Jack were together now, and that made things even more complicated. And based on everything that’d happened since their reunion, it was becoming very apparent that Geoff wasn’t about to forgive him. So Gavin couldn’t start anything with Jack - he couldn’t ruin the other man’s relationship with Geoff when that was the one good thing that’d come out of this shitfest. He couldn’t be the cause of _their_ relationship breaking down, no matter how much he wanted to at least have Jack back. At least have _someone_.

Another wave of nausea hit him, and he gagged again. Nothing came up this time, and he breathed heavily for a few moments, recovering himself, before turning to find Geoff glancing anxiously over his shoulder. The forest around them was still and silent, but Gavin had been so out of it that he had no idea how close those things were to them.

“Sorry,” he croaked, and Geoff turned to him. His face was unreadable.

“It’s fine,” he replied, tersely, “But we need to keep moving. I’m not sure if we lost them. Can you walk?”

Gavin got to his feet. He wobbled, the world spinning a little, but he squeezed his eyes shut a few times, and his vision cleared.

“I think so,” he said, and swallowed. No matter where they stood, Geoff was still the oldest king and in Gavin’s mind, the one who had the most answers. “I… I can’t control the mobs, Geoff… it still hurts. I can’t feel them.”

His voice came out more scared than he liked, but Geoff didn’t comment on that. Just sighed, and reached up, running a hand over his face.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve overtaxed your power by trying to stay connected to your mobs after they went so far away through the portal. The same thing’s happened to me when I stayed too long in the Sight. It’ll make you feel sick for a bit, and you won’t be able to use your gift - but it should come back and work just fine.”

Gavin let out a relieved breath. He steadied himself against the nearest tree, trying to get used to being so helpless again. At least he could still feel the magic of the Wild, coursing through him. Not even losing his gift was enough to take the witch out of him, it seemed.

Finally he felt a little better, and looked around. They were deep in the heart of the Wild, nothing but thick, tangled jungle around them - but he knew the place well enough to get his bearings.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“Back there somewhere,” Geoff replied. He was peering around a tree, back the way they’d come. “It’s too fucking dangerous - we split up. Doesn’t look like those things managed to follow us.” He kicked angrily at the tree trunk and added, “Those fucking black skeletons - what the fuck are they? They’re like the beasts, with their glowy eyes and shit.”

“I didn’t get a good look at them,” Gavin said, and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Fuck - the mobs could’ve defended us. I was a bloody idiot to try and send them through like that. Where’s Jack?”

A look of terrible fear crossed Geoff’s face, and he didn’t answer. Gavin’s stomach dropped. He glanced away, clenching his fists.

_He’s fine. He’s probably with Ryan or Michael or - or off running on his own. He’ll be_ fine. _He’s tougher than you all think_.

He felt helpless - and for one of the first times in his life, scared. They were split up and he had no mobs and he was… he was tired and sick and in pain and only had Geoff here with him. Geoff, who hated him - who he suddenly, irrationally, didn’t think would bother to protect him, right?

He pulled out his knife. His hand was shaking terribly and he couldn’t stop it - he told himself it was his headache. He breathed in and let the Wild’s magic steady him.

“The temple you and Ryan went to explore isn’t far from here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s stop there for a bit. Make a plan.”

“Okay,” Geoff muttered. Gavin looked at him for a long moment, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. After a moment, he turned and began to walk.

There was a very awkward silence as they travelled. That was probably a good thing - after all, they didn’t want the skeletons to be aware of their presence. But Gavin couldn’t help feeling quite miserable, as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

He didn’t know how to act around Geoff nowadays. The nonchalant, jokey mask he put up when _all_ the others were there was one thing. But alone with him… he hated how uncomfortable it felt. Geoff used to be the easiest person in the world to be around. And he could tell that the other man didn’t know how to act around him, either. Geoff was staring at him, he realised suddenly - he was trying to hide it, with little sidelong glances, looking away when Gavin turned around. But he was definitely staring, and Gavin wasn’t sure why.

“You could’ve left me,” Gavin blurted out suddenly. It kept popping into his head - how Geoff had gotten him up and out of there. How he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d just left him. “You… you didn’t need to carry me like you did.”

Geoff looked genuinely taken aback.

“What, and just leave you to die?” he demanded.

“Why didn’t you?” Gavin asked.

Geoff spluttered for a moment, indignantly.

“I don’t know,” he shrieked finally, “Maybe because I’m a decent fucking person and I’m not gonna just abandon someone to those things?”

“Oh,” Gavin said, and Geoff scowled at him.

“Why the fuck do you sound disappointed? Gods.”

Gavin bit his lip and turned away. The problem was, he _wanted_ Geoff to care. He’d wanted the answer to be more personal than that. _I would never abandon you. How can you even think that?_

It was stupid. He kicked himself for so much as hoping for it. For still being foolish enough to care too much, about _both_ Jack and Geoff. And gods, he’d been so angry with the Plains king - but anger faded. He was just sad nowadays. He tried not to think about it.

He turned a corner - and jumped violently when he came face to face with a creeper. Three of them, in fact, congregated in a small clearing. Normally he could sense mobs as they approached - to stumble upon one blind was startling, and he couldn’t help his yelp.

“What is it?” Geoff asked, coming up behind him. “Oh, shit. Will they attack now that you can’t control them?”

“Mobs don’t attack me even without my powers,” Gavin murmured - he held out one arm to keep Geoff back. His witch-eyes kept him safe, but he wasn’t sure if they might attack Geoff. Slowly, he inched forwards - the creepers turned slowly to follow him, but otherwise stood completely still. They didn’t advance - or retreat - and after a moment Gavin let out a sigh of relief.

“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I might not be able to command them, but I think my orders from before are still in place. They won’t harm you.”

“Good,” Geoff muttered, casting the mobs a suspicious, sidelong glance as he followed Gavin. “What did you mean, even without your powers they won’t attack you?”

Gavin hesitated. He wanted to tell Jack about what he’d found out about his parents so far. But Geoff… that whole issue was what had pissed him off so much during the games. It might not go down well - he was scared of what the other man might say. He knew Geoff was wary of witches and he’d heard him say rather unpleasant things about them before. Granted, he’d never met one at the time, but still.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. A funny look crossed Geoff’s face. Once he might’ve pushed, but now he just shrugged and dropped the subject.

Before long they arrived at the columbarium. Gavin strode confidently towards the domed building, but Geoff hung back.

“That thing’s full of booby traps,” he called out. “Ryan and I nearly got skewered to death in some pit of spikes.”

“We’ll just stay in the first room,” Gavin replied. He realised that he still had his pack with him, and quickly lit a torch, stepping into the darkness. He’d explored this area through his mobs’ eyes before, and the room filled with urns was familiar. He wasn’t scared of the sightless eyes of the paintings watching them.

Geoff was. Gavin knew how easily he was spooked, and something nearly fond rose up in his chest as he watched the other man creep tentatively in. He swallowed it down, and sat against the wall.

“It’s dark in here,” he said. “It makes a good hiding spot. They might not think to search for us inside buildings.”

“We don’t know what goes through those things’ heads,” Geoff grumbled, but came in and sat down near Gavin - even scared, even in the cold and the dark, staying far enough away that there was no chance they’d touch. Gavin bit his lip, and tried not to feel upset.

“You need to use your gift,” he said instead. “Use the Sight to see exactly what’s happening out there - how many skeletons are left. Where they are. Where the _others_ are. Otherwise we’re sitting blind in here.”

It seemed quite an obvious plan to him, but Geoff hesitated.

“What?” Gavin asked.

“And leave my body here with you?” Geoff demanded. “I don’t think so.”

The hurt that speared through Gavin’s chest surprised even himself. He stared at Geoff, shocked and wounded.

“What?” he asked. “What do you mean? What do you think I’ll do?”

“I don’t trust you to watch it.”

“I’d never hurt you, Geoff.”

Geoff just gave a little scoff. And honestly, Gavin couldn’t fucking believe this. Despite what he’d done, despite what’d happened, he’d never actively _attacked_ Geoff. He’d never once made threats against his kingdom or his crown. So what the fuck was he afraid of? Clearly, nothing - this was just a way of letting Gavin know exactly how fucking much he hated him.

He was stunned. He hadn’t expected this level of venom from Geoff.

“Well okay then,” he replied, and he couldn’t even sound sarcastic. The hurt in his voice was clear, and he saw Geoff’s eyes widen a little. “I guess we’ll wait until one of us comes up with some other idea.”

Geoff was staring at him, but Gavin couldn’t stand to look at him right now. He pulled his knees up, curling in on himself, and after a moment put his head down. He still had a throbbing headache, and this new upset was only making it worse. He felt like he might cry, just out of sheer stress, and the effort to hold it back was exhausting. The last thing he wanted was to look even weaker in front of the others.

Another flash of pain stabbed behind his eyes, and he let out an involuntary little whimper. Nearby, he heard Geoff shift.

“You okay?” the other man demanded, gruffly.

Gods, Gavin could laugh.

“Not really,” he replied, and _did_ laugh then, bitter and bordering on hysterical. He lifted his head and stared at Geoff. He probably looked a sight, eyes red, hair dishevelled, pale from how sick he felt. He was rather past caring. “Well this is fine, isn’t it? The two of us sitting here, so awkward you could cut the tension with a butter knife. In danger but unable to even trust each _other_ , when time was you… you were the person I cared about most in the world.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Geoff choked out, upon hearing that. His face had gone pale, and there was hurt in his eyes too, now. Gavin looked away.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re right, I… I shouldn’t say that. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Why the fuck would you even think about saying that?” Geoff demanded. He sounded angry the same way Michael and Ray sounded angry when they fought. “What, are you trying to make me feel guilty? _You_ should feel guilty! You _chose_ to leave - _you_ turned on _us!_ ”

Gavin opened his mouth, ready to fight back - but he was just so _tired_ , and before he could get the words out it felt like the energy simply drained from his body, leaving him empty and deflated.

“Okay,” he said, voice quiet and flat. “If that’s what you think about it. I’m not going to explain myself, I… it seems most people don’t even want me to try. I mean, Ryan doesn’t, at least.”

He rubbed his wrist - the bruises still hurt, where the other man had grabbed him. Gavin had hated that. He’d had enough of people pushing him around, and feeling physically weak and helpless was just one way people seemed to like reminding him that he was, what? Worthless. Incapable, compared to the rest of them. He shouldn’t have picked the fight, but the sheer hatred and anger in Ryan’s eyes had frightened him, even if he wished it hadn’t. For a moment he’d really thought the other man meant to kill him.

“He and I fought last night,” he said - needed to tell someone, suddenly. “He hates me too. Fair enough, I suppose, for both of you to. After all that happened. Fair bloody enough. But… have you thought about _why_ I did it? Properly, properly tried to _understand_? Because I didn’t do it for fun, Geoff.”

Geoff looked away. His shoulders were hunched up and tense, and despite the situation, Gavin still hated to see him so upset. But there was a stubbornness to his anger, too, and when he didn’t say anything, Gavin sighed.

So that was how it was. Geoff was determined not to forgive him either - had no intentions of even considering it. Well then.

“Is it easy?” he blurted out, after coming to this rather unhappy realisation. “To… to not care anymore? To just - give up on something? Because it’s not easy for me.”

“What are you trying to say?” Geoff asked, stiffly, and Gavin groaned, burying his head in his hands again.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “I don’t know. Ignore me, I feel sick and my head hurts. I don’t know what I’m saying…”

He trailed off. The silence in the temple seemed to ring in his ears, the shadows closing in around him. He could see whirling colours and lights in the darkness, and his head was throbbing in time with the pulse of his heart. He felt spacey, displaced from reality. Like this was all a bad dream.

“Jack,” he said, almost without thinking about it. “I… I was talking to Jack before, that’s all. He wants… I don’t know. To pick up where we left off, I suppose, to _fix_ things. And I want to, so badly - and I’m not going to push him away, because I don’t want to hurt him, but it seemed like he wanted to know if I still…”

The word _love_ choked up in his throat. He could see Geoff watching him. In horror, probably. He swallowed it down.

“If we could… if _he_ could redo things. Fix things,” he said, instead.

Geoff had gone very stiff. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides - he was staring out into the darkness. Gavin took one look at him, and laughed.

“Yeah, from the look on your face I can tell you don’t want to. But don’t worry,” he said, with a funny fierceness. “I’m not going to do anything to ruin what you and Jack have. So you don’t have to be annoyed with him - or with me. I don’t want to come between you. The fact that you’re together is the only good thing to come out of this mess. So I’ll back off. I know you don’t want me back. I can come to terms with that. I thought I had already, but seeing you guys again is hard.”

Geoff was staring at him now, but Gavin couldn’t make out his expression. His head was spinning again and he couldn’t focus on anything - he sniffed, feeling suddenly upset, and closed his eyes. It was easier just not to look.

“Use the Sight, Geoff,” he murmured. “I’ll bring you back if anything comes and attacks us. We need to find the others - especially Jack. I know you don’t trust me, but trust that I need you alive to help out. That’s what this all is, right? What we are to one another now. We’re just - _useful_ to each other.”

“Gav…” Geoff trailed off, something helpless in his voice, but Gavin didn’t open his eyes.

Time was, Geoff had cared about him. He’d known that. Had loved him, even - so much. He’d been protective and careful and fiercely fond, and now… now all that was gone. It hurt so much that he couldn’t stand it.

Gavin got to his feet and walked away. He needed some distance. The air in here was musty and stale and made his head hurt more. He leaned against the opposite wall and wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly aching for _something -_ a touch, a kind word. Anything. And Jack would give them to him, he knew that - but he couldn’t let himself have it. He couldn’t ruin Jack and Geoff, not after everything else he’d already put them through.

He tugged his scarf out of its loop and wrapped it around himself like a blanket. That was one small comfort, at least. When he turned Geoff was looking at him, his face downcast. He seemed sad - almost sorry. And he was hurt by all this too, Gavin knew. He wasn’t the villain here. He had reasons to be angry and if he wouldn’t forgive, that was his right.

He himself wasn’t about to apologise. He knew why he’d done it. And he knew Geoff wasn’t either. Both of them were far too stubborn for that.

But after a moment, Geoff closed his eyes and tilted his head back and Gavin saw the moment he left his body and stepped into the Sight. A small smile tugged at his lips.

That was an admission of some sort of trust, at least. If they could at least work together - they needed that. He drew his knife and took a deep breath, steadying himself. Geoff was doing his part - he needed to do his job too.

_Strong now. You can do this. Keep fighting._

 

* * *

 

Ryan stalked through the jungle with a purpose.

He felt very feral out here. He was in a humid, enclosed area under the canopy, the air stagnant and heavy. He’d taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist, and pulled his hair back in a tight bun, bits and pieces of it hanging over his face that refused to stay tied down. With his sword in one hand and a redstone torch in the other, eyes stinging with sweat as he hacked branches and bushes out of his path, he felt like some ancient explorer. Like the heroes in those epic adventure novels that he’d seen so many people reading in the Plains. Silly, unrealistic things that they’d never had time for in the Stoneworld - popular fiction.

Still, there was something exhilarating in it - in forcing his way through the wild nature that kept trying to close in around him, in feeling almost like a part of the jungle itself as he paused at any noise and tried to blend into the bushes. He wondered if this was how Gavin felt, as he slipped through the trees here as easily as a shadow.

He’d killed two skeletons earlier. In his escape from the clearing, he’d met them one-on-one. It’d been difficult, but he’d realised that with speed and cunning you could get them in the head, and that seemed to finish them off.

Now, he was searching for Jack.

After escaping the skeletons, he’d circled back around to the clearing and found it empty. Everyone had fled, and the draugr had scattered - so he’d gone in the direction he’d seen Jack flee, down a narrow dark path into this deep part of the jungle. But so far, there was no sign of him - and despite himself, Ryan was starting to feel just a bit worried.

Jack was the only one he couldn’t feel - he wouldn’t know if the other man was in danger. And if he couldn’t find him… the Wild was a big place, and dangerous, even before these creatures had appeared.

He didn’t like how concerned he was - his stomach twisting at the thought of Jack out here alone. He shoved it away - a moment later he heard shouting, and the clashing of swords in the distance, and his head snapped around.

It was coming from deep in the trees a little way away, and he ran towards the noise, roughly shoving hanging vines and branches out of the way. A sharp bit of wood scratched his arm deeply enough to draw blood as he rushed past it, and he let out a hiss but ignored the pain as he pushed on.

Finally he burst into a clearing. In the dim, dappled light filtering through the leaves above them, he saw Jack at the opposite end of the clearing. There was a single black skeleton trading blows with him - Jack held his sword in both hands and swung it with ferocious blows. He wasn’t very fast, not like the nimble skeleton - but his eyes were quick, and his defence strong. He blocked every swing the skeleton sent at him, and after a moment began to push back against it. As Ryan watched, with a mighty roar he managed to knock the draugr’s weapon aside and then plunge his own right through its face. It crumbled away into dust and Jack stood for a moment, shoulders heaving - when suddenly a second draugr burst from the trees behind him.

Jack ducked with impressive speed. He must’ve seen it in his peripheral. Without missing a beat, he swung his sword up and knocked its head off in one swift blow. The draugr was trapped in the bushes and unable to dodge as they usually did - it crumbled away too, and Jack stepped back, flapping a hand in front of his face to dispel the dark cloud of ash that had billowed up as the creature disintegrated.

Ryan stepped from the trees towards him and Jack whirled around, sword raised - but relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Impressive,” Ryan said, and Jack gave a shaky laugh.

“Fucking hell,” he said. “You scare the shit out of me and all you have to say is _impressive_?”

Ryan just shrugged. He was impressed - _very_ impressed. He hadn’t realised Jack was so well trained, and seeing him take down those two skeletons had him suddenly viewing the other man in an even better light. He’d already known Jack was sensible, and intelligent, and kind - but apparently he was a deeply capable swordsman too.

“You know how to fight,” he said, and Jack shrugged.

“I’ve had the same training as Geoff,” he pointed out. “Most noble-born boys have. I got a bit rusty since graduating, but after this last war with Nutt I’ve had more cause to practice. One-on-one these skeletons aren’t too bad… aiming for the face seems to be the main thing.”

“Indeed,” Ryan replied - only for Jack’s eyes to widen as he nodded over Ryan’s shoulder. He turned to see one more draugr ambling between the trees on the other side of the clearing. It seemed it hadn’t seen them yet. Gods, there were so many of them - they’d swarmed the entire Wild by now, tracking down the kings after they’d scattered.

“Wait,” Ryan said, as Jack stepped forward and raised his sword. “We need to investigate what these things are. I haven’t been able to get much from the dust. If we could get one alive…”

“That seems risky,” Jack began, but Ryan shook his head.

“I’ve got a plan. You distract this thing, and I’ll go for its limbs. Kinda hard for it to attack us if it doesn’t have arms or legs, right?”

Jack pulled a face, but nodded - Ryan slipped back into the bushes, hiding, and Jack moved forward.

“Hey!” he called out - just loudly enough for the draugr to hear. It turned, and immediately rushed towards him. It moved faster than Ryan had expected, but Jack was ready for it - he raised his sword and parried the draugr’s first blow, keeping their swords locked as they circled around each other. When the skeleton pulled its blade free and swung again, Ryan took his chance, darting out behind it and lopping its arm off. Distracted as it was with Jack, it didn’t notice him until its arm was already crumbling to the ground at the shoulder.

It must not have been able to feel pain, because it immediately spun around and swung a punch at him with its existing hand. Ryan barely dodged back in time - something about the menacing black flesh, and long taloned nails he could see at the ends of its bony fingers, made him feel like there was more to this creature than met the eye - like its very touch might be dangerous.

Jack took advantage of its distraction to bring his sword around in a mighty arc, lopping off the thing’s leg next - it stumbled, falling sideways, and Ryan hacked off one other arm, and then, as it writhed on the ground like a beached whale, its final leg. They stood, staring down at the body squirming in the piles of black dust.

“That’s… that’s really horrible,” Jack managed, finally.

“It’s not human,” Ryan replied impassively. There was something disconcerting about the limbless form, mostly because it was bipedal and vaguely human shaped - but its fleshless face and glowing purple eyes clearly marked it as something _other_ \- something out of this world, some creature like the dragon had been.

“Still,” Jack said. He watched, pulling faces, as Ryan emptied out his large pack - nothing in there was essential - and then lifted up the draugr and stuffed it in. Its height had mostly been in its limbs, and it was surprisingly light. It fit inside and he pulled the cords of the bag tight.

“There we are, then,” he said, and Jack gave an uneasy laugh.

“Fucking hell,” he said, and ran a hand over his face. “This… this really isn’t reassuring me about the rumours I’ve heard about you. You seem very well versed in murdering people and hiding the bodies!”

Ryan laughed. Maybe once the words would’ve stung, but Jack’s tone was clearly teasing - and it was nice to chuckle at the rumours for once instead of letting them get to him.

He rose, hoisting his bag onto his back - and Jack let out a sudden hiss, moving close to him.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, and reached out, touching Ryan’s arm lightly. He looked down to find the scratch on his arm from earlier had bled through his torn shirt. A moment later, he was suddenly very conscious of Jack’s loose grip around his arm - how warm his hand was.

“What happened?” Jack demanded, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I just scratched myself,” Ryan replied, voice rather strained. “On the trees, coming in here.”

Jack looked up and met Ryan’s eyes. He must’ve been standing there like a stunned mullet, frozen and unsure what to do with someone suddenly touching him - Jack abruptly stepped back, raising his hands.

“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t touch a king. I’m just used to it with Geoff.”

“It’s fine,” Ryan replied, and swallowed. “You’re fine. Everything is… fine.”

Dear gods, he didn’t think he’d ever sounded this awkward in his life. He felt so unexpectedly flustered, and hated it. But when Jack just laughed, and then smiled at him - _fuck_.

The way the other man’s eyes crinkled up - to have someone be _amused_ by him, rather than terrified or wary or hateful… it was nice. So nice. And not for the first time, he felt a sudden pang of longing that was intrinsically linked to _jealousy_ \- jealousy of Geoff. First, he’d had Gavin - now he had Jack. He seemed to always have everything that Ryan wanted. Friends he got along with so well - people who loved him - a shining reputation, the King that everyone across the lands looked up to.

He shook those feelings off. Now wasn’t the time.

“Are _you_ alright?” he asked instead. Jack seemed a bit startled, but he nodded. He looked uninjured.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he replied. “I was just running - and getting really fucking lost - before those other draugr attacked me.” He paused, looking over Ryan’s shoulder, then added, “Where are the others?”

“No idea,” Ryan replied. “I saw that you were alone and came after you. I haven’t bothered with them.”

“Ryan,” Jack chided.

“What?” he asked. “They can take care of themselves. Besides, I can feel they’re all still alive.”

He touched his chest and something strange passed across Jack’s face.

“Of course,” he said softly. “I nearly forgot. But Gavin - he was injured, before, is he-”

“Geoff saved the fool,” Ryan replied, with forced calm. He tried not to think about what he would’ve done if it had been Gavin he saw standing alone in the aftermath. “I saw them running off together.”

“Thank the gods,” Jack said, and his shoulders slumped in relief. Ryan gave him an odd look, and he smiled, but it was small and nearly sad. “Sorry. I just… I worry about him, you know? Alone in the Wild here… I was glad to see that group of friends he had, but since we got here… I don’t know. He just seems… upset, sometimes. It’s all a mask, you know? The way he - he pretends like he doesn’t care. Like it doesn’t matter to him what happened during the games.”

“I know all about masks,” Ryan replied, stiffly.

Jack looked away.

“I want him to come home,” he murmured.

Ryan bit his lip. He had no idea what to do or say, and stood there awkwardly watching Jack. He was obviously upset, and part of him felt like he ought to reach out and comfort him, but he wasn’t sure how. After a moment he cleared his throat.

“Let’s go back to the clearing,” he said, quietly. “We need the protection of my golems. Earlier I sent one to fetch the others from the castle and the Stoneworld - I have enough to repel these things, if they can get here in time.”

Jack nodded, shaking himself. He forced another smile.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you know the way there?”

“I think so.”

They turned and started walking back the way Ryan had come. The jungle was silent around them, and they glanced around constantly, worried another skeleton would emerge from the foliage. But none came, and eventually the silence grew awkward - Ryan glanced over at Jack. He still looked downcast.

“You shouldn’t worry about the fool,” Ryan blurted out eventually. He was still irritated about the discussion he and Gavin had had last night. “He’s proven more than capable of taking care of himself.”

“I care about him,” Jack said, gently. “So of course I worry. Gavin’s used to trying to look strong. With the upbringing he had… he tries not to show weakness. But he used to trust us, so it… it hurts to see him blustering about pretending like he doesn’t care when I know he does.”

“He doesn’t,” Ryan replied, stiffly, remembering with a sense of vague discomfort the kiss. The ruthless betrayal. “He _didn’t_.”

“He does,” Jack repeated, calmly. “He was hurt, by what was happening with Geoff and I. And I can understand why, I think. I mean, I’ve never experienced it, but Geoff and I assumed that he knew how we felt even if it was never said. I should’ve realised that when you… when you grow up with no one showing you affection, it can be hard to just _trust_ people. Sometimes you need to acknowledge things out loud.”

Ryan looked away. It hit too close to home, the way everything about Gavin seemed to. Only difference was, no one had ever actually loved _him_ \- so there was nothing to be said.

When he turned back around, Jack was watching him intently.

“What Gavin did to you,” he said to Ryan, slowly. “It wasn’t out of malice. He’s not like that.”

“His intentions don’t matter-”

“That’s what he said to me earlier,” Jack cut in, and shook his head. “But I disagree. They _do_. They do matter, in whether you make the choice to forgive someone or not. In how you can understand _why_ they might’ve done something. I’m sorry about what happened. I know it must’ve been hard for you.”

“It’s not you who needs to apologise,” Ryan grunted. He’d tensed up - he never did like sympathy.

“I know, but still. Trust me,” Jack said, “I know Gavin. He didn’t hurt you deliberately. I think there was a miscommunication in how you felt about each other. A miscommunication in motives. The same thing happened with us. He wanted to hurt Geoff and I by leaving - I think part of _that_ was deliberate. But you… I don’t think he realised you actually cared about him. After all, you only knew each other, what - a week?”

When Jack said it, it seemed obvious - easy to believe, if he let himself. But Jack wasn’t Gavin - he loved him far too much to ever believe the worst of him. Ryan turned away.

“And you?” he sneered, letting his voice grow harsh again in an attempt to cover just how uncomfortable he felt. “He chose to leave _you_. If he really cared so much, would he have done that? If he _loved_ you, would he not have stayed, no matter what?”

Jack was unfazed, staring at Ryan with something too intense in his eyes, seeming to see too much.

“That’s the thing,” he said. “ _No matter what_. He stayed for a long time. Things built up. It got… unbearable, I suppose. There’s a breaking point to loyalty - sometimes you can’t keep putting others first. It hurts, but I don’t think I can blame him.”

That hit too close to home again. His mother - how long he’d stood by her - how he’d hoped she would _change_. She never had - he’d had to take matters into his own hands. But that was for his people, not just for himself. Jack was watching him, and Ryan’s curiosity about the other man only grew.

“And you?” he asked, suddenly. “What about your loyalty? To Geoff, to Gavin - to the rest of us. You’re not part of the bond.”

That made Jack glance away, brow furrowing.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Who are _you_ , outside of Geoff and Gavin?” Ryan asked. “It’s not always about the two of them. What drives you, aside from the people you care about - what do _you_ want from this world?”

“Unity,” Jack replied, without even stopping to think about it. “Between all five kingdoms. Hell, in my lifetime I’ve seen a number of crowns change hands. I’ve studied the mistakes of the past - I want to fix them. For too long the kingdoms have been divided - but what if you could all work together? Your gifts don’t have to just be for your people. Right now, we’re in a better position than ever for… gods, I know it sounds silly, but world peace - or at least peace and trade between _all_ the kingdoms. With your mother, it was impossible. With you, it isn’t. Michael and Ray have already united their kingdoms. And now that Gavin runs the Wild, it’s entered into things too. We have an opportunity here that’s unheard of in history.”

Ryan stared at him.

Sometimes he still remembered what Gavin had told him - about the kingdoms, and the crowns, and how they were meant to be united. At the time it had seemed silly, if only because it was coming from the mouth of a fool and such a thing was unheard of. But hearing Jack say it… it made sense. Michael’s father hadn’t much been one for alliances. The Desert had always been remote, far away across the Alps, trading only with them. And Jack was right, Ryan’s mother would never have been friendly towards the other kings.

But the four of them… _five_ , including Gavin… they were different. Younger, for one. And working together now.

“And sometimes,” Jack continued, and gestured at himself. “I think maybe you need an outsider to facilitate that. So that’s what I want from this world, Ryan. That’s what I want from you.”

He met Ryan’s gaze, and held it for a long moment. Ryan stared back - there was an intensity in Jack’s eyes, a passion. It was clear he cared a lot about the future of his kingdom. Of _all_ their kingdoms - that he desired genuine progress and peace for everybody. Not only that, he was in a position to take active steps towards it - and he _was_.

Ryan had never met anyone quite like that before. He nodded thoughtfully.

“Then let us hope,” he said, “That we deal with this threat swiftly. For once, at least, the kingdoms are working together on something. It will make it much easier to figure out what to do about these creatures with all of us on the same page.”

Jack smiled, and Ryan smiled back. They emerged into their campsite, by the ruins of the castle. A half-dozen zombies stood motionless around the fire - lost without orders, but at least not aggressive. They didn’t so much as look up when the two of them entered.

“No one’s here,” Jack said, sounding concerned.

“My golems are.” They were waiting outside his tent - thirty of them, the ones he hadn’t brought on the expedition with him. There were a dozen more at the Wild castle, and an entire army back in the Stoneworld. He beckoned them, and they marched forward in unison - he opened his bag and showed them the imprisoned draugr inside.

“They can cut through your armour,” he told them. “Move fast. Aim for their heads. Disarm them if possible-”

“Geoff!” Jack cried suddenly, and Ryan turned to find the Plains king had materialised suddenly behind them.

“Jack!” Geoff’s face crumpled with relief. “Thank fuck you’re alive.”

Jack had moved forward to embrace him, only to falter when he realised he couldn’t in the Sight.

“Are you okay?” he asked, instead. “Where’s Gavin?”

“We’re hiding in the temple Ryan and I went to.” Geoff’s eyes moved to Ryan as he came up beside Jack. “I’m glad you two are together. It’s dangerous alone.”

“Ryan came to find me,” Jack said. “I’d be lost in this damn jungle if he hadn’t.”

Geoff’s ghostly eyes met Ryan’s. He gave a nod of thanks, something deeply sincere in it.

“Michael and Ray?” Jack prompted.

“I haven’t gone to find them yet. Do we have a plan?” Geoff asked.

“They’re killable one on one,” Ryan said. “My golems can push them back north if you use the Sight to direct them. In the meantime, we should go back to Gavin’s castle. It’s safer there, and I doubt these _things_ have travelled that far south yet.”

Geoff nodded.

“Right,” he said. “I’ll arrange all that through the Sight. You two get to safety - I’ll find Michael and Ray and send them back, too. Gavin and I will meet you there as soon as we can.”

“Good,” Ryan said. He turned to the golems, and gestured at Geoff. “Listen to him.”

“Stay safe,” Jack said worriedly, as Geoff made to fly up into the air again.

Geoff’s face softened. He reached out as though to touch Jack, his incorporeal hand hovering just over the other man’s cheek.

“You too. See you soon,” he said, and Jack nodded

Geoff flew away - all the golems but two followed, and Ryan turned to Jack.

“I just remembered we’re going to have to climb over that fucking log again to get back,” he said, and Jack - who’d been staring after Geoff, something worried and nearly upset in his face - let out a startled laugh. It was nice to see him smile again.

“We’d better get a move on, then. Come on,” he said, and they moved off.


	10. Chapter 10

“Gav? Are you awake?”

Michael tried the handle of Gavin’s door and found it unlocked. Carefully, he poked his head into the room - it was dimly lit by a single flickering candle by the bedstand, and he looked over at Gavin, trying to be quiet in case he was asleep.

Gavin sat up a little in the bed. His eyes were lidded and sleepy, taking a few moments to focus.

“Shit, did I wake you up?” Michael asked, but Gavin shook his head.

“No, you’re good. I was just dozing off. What’s up?”

Michael shut the door behind him and stepped into the room. He scanned Gavin worriedly, but aside from looking exhausted, he seemed fine, and relief flooded in, settling the last of Michael’s nerves.

After Geoff led them out of the ravine, Michael and Ray had made their way back to the Wild castle. They’d arrived there first to find the entire camp, soldiers and Gavin’s folk alike, on high alert - after a golem had come and silently summoned all the others away, they’d realised something was wrong. A little while later, Jack and Ryan had arrived. No skeletons had come after them, and though they were keeping a careful watch out, it felt safer here in the castle, behind the big wall with an army of mobs guarding the place.

All the mobs who’d been working on construction had carried out their existing instructions before standing stock-still. It was clear that Gavin was unable to continue controlling them in his current state. And gods, Michael had been terrified, when the other man screamed - when he dropped to the floor - the clear agony he’d been in, pulsing through the bond. His pain and fear obvious. It had made his stomach sink, made him furious and terrified, just like when he’d seen Ray fall. Since they’d first met he’d hated seeing Gavin hurt - something about the other man just drew him in, made him want to protect him.

He’d been out patrolling the forest when Geoff and Gavin returned - when he heard they were back, he’d come straight away to check on Gavin, who’d apparently been ordered to go and rest up by his friends.

Gavin smiled at him now, weakly. He was sitting up in bed with the creeper-skin blankets pulled up to his chin, and Michael came to sit at the foot of the mattress.

“You okay?” he asked softly. “I heard you came back. You didn’t look like you were doing great when I last saw you.”

Gavin scoffed, and reached up to rub at his eyes.

“I’m a bit better. It’s wearing off, I think. I still have a headache, but sleep will fix that. I think I’m also just really tired, which isn’t helping.”

“Good,” Michael said. “I was worried.”

Gavin looked away, but he was smiling.

“That’s sweet of you,” he said, quietly. “Lovely Michael.”

Michael frowned a bit, and leaned forward, poking at Gavin’s shoulder until he looked up again.

“Hey - Jack and Geoff were too. I saw their faces when you just keeled over like that. And Jack was freaking out when we all got back here and you and Geoff weren’t in yet.”

Gavin just shrugged, looking away again.

“It’s scary not being able to control the mobs,” he said, in a clear bid to change the topic. “I’ve gotten so used to feeling them, to knowing they’ll be there to do whatever I say, that now that they’re _gone_ … I don’t know. I feel unprotected.”

“I’ll protect you,” Michael said instantly, fiercely, and Gavin gave a startled laugh.

“I appreciate it - but still. I feel blind, here in the Wild. Normally if anything drastic happens, the mobs see it first and I get some warning. I just hope sleeping fixes it.” He sighed, and rubbed his temples. “Gods, I’m becoming Ryan, with his obsession with controlling everything.”

“He wants to feel safe, too,” Michael said, without really thinking about it. Gavin pulled a face.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

There was a funny silence. Gavin settled back against the pillow, but didn’t close his eyes, staring up at the ceiling while Michael looked down at his own hands, twisting them awkwardly together. He felt sticky and grimy from trekking through the depths of the Wild - tired, but so on-edge that he didn’t think he could sleep if he tried, still hyper-alert from the threat of constant danger.

“Are you okay, Michael?” Gavin asked finally. “I’m glad you got out. I was worried about everyone, when we got split up.”

“I’m not hurt,” Michael replied. “Ray injured his ankle falling down a ravine.”

“Oh, gods.” Gavin sat up, face drawn with concern. “Is he alright?”

“Just a sprain. I think your friend Griffon took him off to put something on it. We, uh. Hid out together for a bit. Ended up talking.”

“And?” Gavin’s eyes were wide, nearly eager. “Are things okay with you two now?”

“I think so,” Michael said. Before he could explain more, Gavin let out a loud cheer, pumping his fist in the air. Michael laughed, but reached out to hold him still. “Hey, calm down - don’t wear yourself out even more! Look, we just… talked a bit, set some things straight. Made it clear we don’t hate each other. Apologised.”

"That sounds like a lot of progress!”

“I suppose it is.” He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “I gotta thank you, actually. Some of the stuff you said made me think a lot more about Ray and… I guess I still don’t quite know how I feel about him. I don’t love him, not yet, but I… I think I might, with time. Or maybe not. Either way, I want us to stay friends - and if we’re not fighting I have the space to think about it more, y’know? To let it develop, if it will. Fuck. I don’t know.”

“You guys are really close,” Gavin said, softly. “You’ll figure it out. Me and Dan… we’re best friends, just like you guys, but I’ve always known we were nothing more than that. But with Jack and Geoff… for a while I wasn’t sure. Then I was - then I didn’t think _they_ felt the same. Sometimes it just takes time to really work out how you feel.”

“And now?” Michael pressed, and Gavin flopped back against the pillow again.

“Now, I don’t think it matters what I feel. I bollocksed any chance I had with Geoff during the games.”

“But you still wouldn’t go back and change it again,” Michael said, and Gavin groaned and rubbed his face.

“Geoff’s with Jack now. He’s happy. He doesn’t need me.”

“And Jack?”

Gavin was silent for a long moment. Then he rolled over to face the wall.

“I’m tired,” he said, voice muffled into his pillow. “Let me sleep now, Michael.”

Michael could only laugh at the blatant attempt to change the subject. He leaned in close and squeezed Gavin’s arm.

“Okay. You should rest. I am glad you’re okay, Gav - I care about you.”

“Thanks, Michael,” Gavin said, softly. Michael leaned in to hug him only to pause. As he got close to Gavin a warm pressure started up in his chest - the bond between them seeming to swell and blossom until Michael nearly thought his heart would burst. It wasn’t a bad feeling - strange, but _good_ , almost. It felt like getting close, like _connecting_ \- he liked Gavin, and had always found it reassuring to be reminded of his constant presence, that he was still alive in the Wild, during these last eight months. So he didn’t mind, now, the feeling that his soul had suddenly shifted closer to the other man’s, that they were wrapping around and intertwining in some sort of spiritual embrace.

Still - it was confusing, because he had never felt anything like it before. It felt too much like magic for him not to be a little bit unsettled.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Gavin bit his lip.

“I think it’s a magic thing.”

“A witch thing?”

“No, a magic thing. You have some too, since you’re a king.” He reached up and tapped Michael’s chest, over his heart. “I… I think being here in the Wild, where it’s full of magic, is making all of us connect more strongly. Because I’m a witch it seems like it’s happening with me first. The other day with Ryan…”

He trailed off, and Michael frowned.

“Did he hurt you?” he demanded. He didn’t mind Ryan as much nowadays, since he’d proven himself while working together - but he was still quite wary of him, and he especially didn’t like the way he treated Gavin.

“I’m fine,” Gavin said. “Just - it was awkward. It _is_ awkward, this… this thing between all of us, isn’t it? Was it like this with the old kings? Did they feel so close?”

“I have no idea,” Michael replied. “I was the last to join, so I was never tied to any of the previous rulers. Gods know it must’ve been strange when Geoff was linked to Ryan’s mother.”

Gavin snorted. Apparently he’d never thought about that before.

“But I don’t mind it,” Michael said, and smiled. “It’s nice, knowing you’re there.”

Gavin smiled back, and Michael ruffled his hair before getting up.

“Sleep now!” he ordered. “You’re gonna need all your strength with these fucking demon skeletons from hell out there. We should all rest while we can, then reconvene. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin said, and Michael grinned at him once more before leaving the room, shutting the door gently behind him. He turned to leave, only to jump violently when he noticed Ryan, leaning against the wall a little way down the corridor - eyes fixed intently on him.

“Shit,” Michael hissed - his hand had gone to his sword automatically, and Ryan just raised an eyebrow at him. “What the fuck are you doing lurking out here?”

He hadn’t seen much of Ryan since he returned with Jack. The other man had left immediately to do something with his golems - sending messages to the Stoneworld, bringing more over, tinkering with the ones he had. Michael had no idea how it all worked, but he assumed he was fixing them? Doing something to make them faster, to instruct them in the best way to kill the dark skeletons.

He had to admit, it’d been pretty clever of Ryan to get the golems to blow up back there. If he hadn’t, the skeletons might’ve overrun them. Michael had never seen an explosion like that before. He’d rather enjoyed it.

Ryan’s gaze flickered to the closed bedroom door.

“How is he?” he asked, instead.

“What do you care?” Michael shot back, finding it hard to believe Ryan had come down here just to check on Gavin.

“We need him,” Ryan replied, calmly, and Michael snorted.

“Right,” he said. “He’ll be fine. He’s resting. Don’t you fucking go in there,” he snapped, as Ryan moved towards the door. The other man paused, raising his hands defensively.

“I have no desire to kill him,” he said. Once Michael might have thought he sounded smug, but now he could see the lurking, genuine annoyance in Ryan’s eyes. “There’s no need to jump to conclusions.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, given the way you’ve been acting,” Michael growled, and saw another flash of annoyance - hurt? - flicker across Ryan’s face. “Didn’t you two fight the other night?”

That made Ryan’s jaw clench. He looked away, seeming to gather his thoughts - Michael watched him, warily.

“You could never possibly understand,” Ryan said finally, tightly - not smug at all, now - “The unfinished business between the two of us.”

“He betrayed me too-”

“ _Not_ like he betrayed me,” Ryan snapped.

Michael scowled at him, rather put out.

“I thought he and I were friends,” he pointed out. “He stole from me. He got close to me then used me. But I can understand why. I can understand that we didn’t know each other well, that we owed each other nothing. I see why he did it. So I can forgive him.”

Ryan was shaking his head, sneering.

“Gods above. You have had a vastly different life to me, Michael. We are not remotely the same. Maybe you understand what drives the fool, but you haven’t a fucking clue what’s made _me_ what I am. So maybe you can bring yourself to forgive him that easily - but I can’t. Perhaps you ought to count yourself luckily that you haven’t had your trust broken enough times to make you wary.”

He sounded tired, more than anything, and when he turned away something a little guilty tugged at Michael’s stomach. It was true, he didn’t know much about Ryan beyond the rumours.

“Once he wakes up,” Ryan said, shortly, “We’ll have a meeting.”

He turned to go, but Michael stepped forward suddenly.

“Wait,” he called out. Ryan turned in surprise, and Michael swallowed. “Can I try something?”

Ryan hesitated, seeming unsure - especially as Michael started walking towards him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what was compelling him to do this, except that what’d happened with Gavin just now had been very strange, and he was curious to see if it’d work with the others - especially someone he wasn’t as close to.

He came up very close to Ryan, who stiffened, staring down at him with brows furrowed.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice very tight.

“Testing something,” Michael replied. It felt strange to be so close to Ryan, who he hadn’t interacted with all that much before. He tapped his own chest - could feel a slight warmth, and saw the flicker of recognition in Ryan’s eyes. “Gav said this happened with you before. It happened again, with me and him, just now. So I’m curious - is it caused by physical proximity, or…?”

He trailed off, shifting so close that he was nearly chest to chest with Ryan - they’d brush together if one of them breathed in too deeply. They paused, waiting for something to happen. It was very uncomfortable - Michael wasn’t sure where to look, and when he did glance up at Ryan, it was to find the other man’s jaw clenched as he resolutely stared straight ahead of him.

After a moment - as he let out a slow breath and finally relaxed - he felt a small tug against the bond. And then, suddenly, Ryan was open to him - a frantic mess of emotions, like floodgates had opened and exposed Michael to some turbulent sea. The warmth spread through his chest - not as intensely as with Gavin, but enough to be significant. Michael himself, despite feeling awkward, was fairly calm and relieved after having made up with Ray and seeing that Gavin was okay, and he felt those emotions somehow spread out and sooth Ryan, calming his turmoil for a moment-

Then Ryan stepped back, scowling. It was like a wall had shuttered down between them; the warmth faded and the bond fell back to its usual faint subconsciousness.

“Shit,” Michael hissed. “It does work. Gavin’s right. It’s stronger, now that we’re all in one spot - now that we’re here in the Wild.”

Ryan looked uncomfortable - but then something seemed to dawn on him.

“What you did just then… you changed something. I could feel your… emotions, I suppose, reaching out to me. If we worked out what this is, we could use it to our advantage. To be connected more deeply might be a means of communication, or useful in combat.”

That made a lot of sense, and for a moment Michael nodded, excited - only to remember this was _Ryan_ he was talking to. He wasn’t exactly open with his feelings at the best of times.

“Would you mind that, though?” he pointed out. “With Gav, with Geoff? And then there’s Geoff who might not want to do that with _Gavin_.”

Ryan seemed to realise that, and hesitated too.

“True,” he replied slowly. “But still. It could be an… asset. We should think about this further.”

Michael shrugged, and nodded. They fell into another silence - Michael’s thoughts were mostly on the dark skeletons, still. It was certainly a threat the likes of which no one had ever faced before. With these beasts coming out of nowhere, they had to experiment - do things which had never been done before. Hell, _all_ of them just working together was already pretty fucking revolutionary.

“Those things are hard to kill,” he muttered, and Ryan stirred.

“Like anything, it just takes practice. We’re already learning what works.” His hand went to the sword at his belt and he added, firmly, “We _will_ destroy them.”

“Of course,” Michael replied. No matter what else he thought of the other man, Ryan’s determination and confidence were pleasing. Michael felt pretty damn confident too, and someone else being just as enthusiastic made it easier to believe that they really could take these things on. Once again he could only be glad that they were all on the same side in this.

Ryan shook himself, then.

“Go rest,” he ordered. “We’ll have a meeting once Free wakes up.”

Michael nodded, suddenly a bit unsure what to say. Ryan turned and strode off, not looking back. Michael watched him go before slowly turning to walk to his own room.

 

* * *

 

“So what the fuck is our plan to deal with these things?” Geoff demanded.

They were standing about in Gavin’s great hall. Some hours had passed and they’d taken the time to rest up and refresh themselves. It was just bordering on sundown, now, and the creatures hadn’t approached the castle - but the golems Ryan had sent out to patrol had reported that they were still scattered and wandering through the jungle.

Gavin had just sent some mobs out to confirm. Michael was glad to see that he looked much better after his nap, and when he woke up he’d regained his gift. Now he stood with his friends - all of the soldiers had been briefed on the situation, and stood worriedly behind their kings as they conferred.

“First,” Ryan said, “We need to figure out what they are. I’ve captured one to experiment on.”

“Gods, Ryan,” Geoff said. Ryan just shrugged.

“What? Better to have one alive - the dust they turn into when they die has given me fuck all so far.” He hefted his pack, and Michael pulled a face as he realised the creature was inside - and then what he must’ve done to make it fucking fit in there, _gods_.

“The Stoneworld isn’t far,” Ryan said. “I’ll take it back to my lab to study.”

“We found a lot of clues in the Wild,” Ray piped up. “That portal, the gold tower... King Midas. We should do more research on those.”

“The Plains are too far,” Geoff muttered. “There’d be more in the universities and libraries there, if we could only get to them. I suppose with the Sight I could-”

“No need,” Ryan cut in. “I told you I’ve been trying to reform education around here. I’ve recently ordered a huge amount of books from the Plains academies. I never got the chance to read them, but the Stoneworld’s library is quite well stocked these days.”

“Convenient,” Geoff said. “I’ll do that, then - I have an idea what books I’d like to look at.”

“I’ll come too,” Ray said suddenly. “I can be more use in research than anything else, probably.”

Geoff looked surprised, but nodded.

“Yeah - it’ll be faster with two.”

Ray looked over at Michael, who nodded too. He gave a small smile, and Michael grinned back. It was a relief for a shared glance to, at last, be filled with camaraderie rather than hostility.

“What’ll you do?” Ray asked him.

“Patrol in the jungle,” Michael replied. “Get a read on what these things are up to, where they’re going - kill any of the fuckers, if I can.”

“Be careful,” Ray warned.

Michael flexed his biceps in response, and Ray laughed and rolled his eyes. _Gods_ , it was nice to be the one to make him smile again.

Gavin was looking between them. He seemed very pleased they were getting along.

“I’ll send some mobs with you, Michael,” he said. “Creepers might have a good chance of taking out those things. Seems like explosions do the trick.”

“Oh! That’s smart. And they’ll listen to me?”

“If I tell them to. Just be very, very clear in your instructions,” Gavin said. “Nothing too complicated. ‘Go there’ and ‘blow up’ is probably the most they can handle.”

“That’s all I need,” Michael said, with a wicked grin - feeling rather excited at the prospect of getting to blow shit up.

“And where will you be?” Geoff asked.

Gavin met his gaze for about two seconds before looking away again.

“I think,” he said, voice carefully flat, “That I can be the most use helping Ryan.”

Michael and Ray stiffened - everyone else looked surprised, even Gavin’s Wild friends murmuring amongst themselves.

“Gav,” Dan hissed, warningly.

“It’s fine,” Gavin murmured back. He was staring at Ryan, whose face had gone cold.

“What makes you think I need your help?” he asked.

Gavin straightened up.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but we need to work together here. You know your science, but I know the Wild - and magic. I’ll bring some Endermen with me, and some draugr too. We can work out how similar these Wither are.”

“What did you call them?” Geoff demanded.

“Wither,” Gavin replied, and shrugged. “Didn’t you see what their arrows did? Even the trees died when they got hit. They killed two of the zombies I sent out as scouts earlier - withered them right up. We need a name to distinguish them from _my_ draugr.”

“It seems appropriate,” Ray said, and Michael nodded approvingly.

“You always were good at naming things,” Jack said. Gavin shot him a small smile.

“What will you do, Jack?”

“I’ll go with Michael,” Jack replied, looking at him - Michael stared back, a bit surprised.

“You sure as fuck will not,” Geoff said immediately.

Jack turned to him, looking faintly exasperated.

“I held my own out there,” he said, firmly. “Ryan will tell you. You can’t stop me, Geoff - I want to do my part.” And then, when Geoff still looked determined, he sighed. “Gavin’s hardly about to stop Dan from going out there.”

Gavin and Dan exchanged a glance and a shrug.

“That’s different,” Geoff replied, voice tight. “He’s a soldier.”

“So am I,” Jack replied immediately. “Don’t forget that.”

Michael watched them, a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected Jack to want to go out, let alone to show this sudden stubborn side. Geoff still looked unconvinced.

“This is not your kingdom to protect, Jack,” he pointed out - something pleading in it, now.

“You’re right,” Jack said. “It’s Gavin’s. And he’s my friend, and I want to help. This affects all of us.”

Gavin looked away - Geoff didn’t seem to know what to say. An awkward silence lingered until Michael finally cleared his throat.

“I’ll take care of him,” he said, and Jack turned to look at him.

“Or I’ll take care of _you_ ,” he shot back, and Michael laughed. If Jack said he could fight, he believed him - they exchanged a small smile, and finally Geoff sighed, and reached up to rub his temples.

“Okay,” he said. “You can do what you like, Jack. I know I can’t stop you. Just be fucking careful.”

“I’m more careful than you,” Jack teased, and Geoff smiled faintly.

“So it’s decided,” he said, and clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s not waste any more time. Night’s falling and I don’t fancy the thought of facing those fuckers in the dark.”

There was a great commotion as everyone began to leave the room. Michael saw Ryan stride over to Gavin, and stare down at him impassively.

“Hurry up and get ready,” he ordered. “We want to reach the Stoneworld before it gets too dark.”

Gavin just nodded, and turned to talk to his people. Michael busied himself going over to Jack.

“So you can handle yourself, then?” he asked.

“Perfectly well,” Jack said, and Michael nodded.

“Good. My warriors will come with us - go get some of yours, too.”

 

* * *

 

Having travelled into the city together, Ryan and Gavin made off for the fortress, while one of his golems directed Geoff and Ray into the library. It was late enough that the streets weren’t crowded, but those who were still out and about watched curiously as the kings passed, most of them bowing. They seemed rather confused as to what, exactly, was going on, and Geoff couldn’t help but wonder exactly what news Ryan had released to them.

“So,” he said, as he and Ray rode side by side, following their golem guide. “Looks like you and Michael made up then.”

It probably was a bit out of the blue to bring it up so suddenly, but frankly Geoff felt a bit awkward. It was unsettling being alone in this foreign city, without the rest of his delegation. And while he liked Ray, he hadn’t spoken to him alone all that much, and didn’t know much about him - they were both strangers here in this city.

Ray looked a bit confused, but nodded.

“We did,” he replied, slowly. “We… talked things out a bit, I guess. Realised we were both being fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, I think everyone else already noticed that part.”

“Hey,” Ray said indignantly, and Geoff laughed.

“I’m just ribbing you, kid.” He looked around as they turned into the city centre. By now it was dark and the streets were lit up an eery crimson with redstone. “Wow, this city is weird. I never explored here, even during the games. It’s so different to the Plains - I don’t think I could stand to live here. The darkness, the stone - it’s so fucking creepy.”

“It’s pretty bleak,” Ray agreed. “Then again, the desert used to be just as barren. Luckily, our gift lets us change things. Now, my city is an oasis.”

“Yeah, well, seems like the Stoneworld could do with some help from you,” Geoff muttered.

Ray tilted his head.

“I would, you know,” he said. “If Ryan asked. In return for redstone - it could really revolutionise my kingdom. It just needs him to install it.”

“Hm,” was all Geoff could say in response to that. There’d always been enough wariness between the kingdoms, enough hostility, that the rulers had guarded their gifts fiercely and were never willing to share. The thought of using them to actively develop each others’ cities and infrastructure was unheard of.

But somehow, it was a little easier to believe it might be possible with this group of kings - with Michael, and Ray, and even _Ryan_. Something felt different, felt _new_.

“Here we are, then,” Ray said abruptly, and Geoff shook himself, snapping back to attention as he looked up to see the enormous, stone building looming above them.

 

* * *

 

It felt strange to be in a library again. The redstone light here was less harsh, clearly designed to be easier on the eyes, and the building itself was different from the cosy, wood-panelled, carpeted chambers of the Plains’ national archives. Rather, it was an expansive building, very roomy, with lots of space between the aisles and an enormous ceiling held up by stone pillars. There were so few people around that it felt like being in an empty church, this great silent space where every whisper echoed. The place seemed obsessively organised, every last volume filed neatly in place.

Geoff felt a bit out of place here. He hadn’t studied in a library in years. That being said, he read every night in bed, and he was educated and well spoken when he wanted to be - even if he kept up a casual demeanour in court, he’d paid attention to his studies and responsibilities growing up. He wasn’t an idiot. The war against Nutt had worn him down, and it took a moment to get back into the zone of sitting down and focusing on something so intellectual rather than physical.

He handed the library attendant a list of books he’d made, and sat with Ray at one of the tables to wait as she located them.

“You reckon they’ll be okay together?” Ray asked suddenly. He spoke softly, but it still felt too loud in here. “Ryan and Gav, that is.”

Geoff snorted, and shook his head.

“They’ll be at each other’s throats in seconds, probably.”

Ray didn’t laugh. He looked away, something almost unhappy passing across his face, and Geoff poked at his arm.

“What?”

“I’m worried about them,” Ray admitted. “ _Both_ of them. Ryan was… pretty hurt by what happened last time.”

“That’s apparent,” Geoff said, drily. “I didn’t think he was capable of it-”

“He _is_ ,” Ray cut in, with odd fierceness. “Everyone is. He’s human like us.”

Geoff looked away, feeling oddly chastised. It had been a stupid comment. Hadn’t he seen Ryan’s anger, his _pain_ , over what’d happened with his mother?

“And Gav,” Ray added, after a moment. “Ryan’s so angry with him. Being around him must be… this is hard on him too, you know. He left his home and his family behind-”

“He chose that,” Geoff snapped. _Home_ and _family_ struck him hard, leaving a terrible ache.

But Ray shook his head.

“Sometimes we feel like we have no choice,” he replied, softly. “Like we have to do something, something we can’t take back, because we’d… we’d regret it otherwise. We’d lose the chance to get something, something we _need_.”

“Don’t you fucking start too,” Geoff muttered, and Ray raised his hands.

“I’m not. Just saying.”

Geoff clenched his jaw.

_Gavin…_ being with him, back in the jungle… it was hard to stay angry with the other man when he was hurt, and exhausted, and all Geoff wanted was to protect and take care of him. That hadn’t changed. When Gavin was prancing around with his giant spider and his glowing eyes, it was easy to see him as some distant enemy - someone Geoff didn’t _know._

But back there - he’d remembered Gavin as a boy, as the skinny, underfed thief he’d first met picking pockets on the street. Dirty and scrawny, but still with a sparkling sense of humour under everything. It had been clear that life had thrown him every which way, but he’d still come out the other end smiling.

Geoff had loved that about him.

And Gavin had seemed so _happy_ , with them. Laughing and grinning and always jumping to support Geoff when he needed it. It was hard to believe this had been building up for so long.

But his parents… that had been more important than Geoff realised, apparently. The games had distracted him - but there was a difference between your political duties and your personal ones. And as a king, politics might’ve been the most important thing for _him_ \- but Gavin wasn’t a king.

Geoff didn’t hate him. He _couldn’t_ , even if he tried to. Under everything, he was scared of being hurt again. That was why he didn’t trust Gavin, why he’d pushed him away.

But seeing the other man so worn down…

He hadn’t realised Gavin still cared enough about him to be hurt by his actions. Had thought he’d given up on them completely - that his feelings for them had vanished, and that the Wild was the only thing that mattered to him any more.

But Ryan… Ryan wasn’t like that, and maybe Gavin wasn’t either.

“You and Ryan seem to get along well,” Geoff commented, wanting to switch the topic.

Ray shrugged.

“I like him,” he said.

“What about him?”

“He takes no shit from anyone,” Ray replied. “I aspire to reach that level of not giving a fuck what others think of you. Besides, he’s funny.”

“Funny,” Geoff said, flatly.

“Yeah.” Ray stared at him, something almost challenging in it. Geoff stared back - but a moment later the attendant returned, dragging a cart full of enormous books.

“Here you are,” she said, hefting each volume up onto the table. They were huge things, with leather covers and vellum pages.

Ray’s eyes were wide, seeming a little intimidated now that the books were actually in front of them.

“What are we looking for?” he asked, a touch uncertainly.

“Any mention of the tower or the portal,” Geoff instructed, dragging one book towards him to get started. “I’ll start reading up on Midas again.”

“Okay,” Ray replied. He cracked all his knuckles vigorously, making Geoff cringe and shudder, and chose a book before setting to work.

 

* * *

 

It felt timeless in the library, in the silence and under the bright redstone lights. It wasn’t until Geoff’s eyes began to ache that he realised a couple of hours had passed. That and the fact that his ass was starting to grow numb; seriously, did _everything_ have to be made out of stone here? Even the fucking _chairs_?

“How’s it going?” Ray asked eventually. He looked tired, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes.

“I was looking into the story of Midas, but I’m just getting the same shit over and over. Nothing I didn’t already know,” Geoff replied, frustrated. “The gods gave him powers. He was the most powerful man in all the kingdoms. But the other gods turned against him, and eventually cast him away.”

“Cast him away?” Ray asked, and Geoff perked up, suddenly thoughtful.

“I always assumed they meant banished him - like an outcast. But maybe… maybe they meant they literally cast him away. Threw him into the portal, just like on that mural!”

“That makes sense,” Ray replied, excitedly, but Geoff was already furiously turning back to the books.

The portal had been in the Wild. No one had ever really studied or researched the biome much - hadn’t been able to, because it was so dangerous. But now, he had something new to look for. Jack had been right before when he pointed out how the landmarks in the myths corresponded to real places in their lands, even if there was no mention of specific biomes. What he wanted now was anything about a jungle or forest in the northern parts of the land.

It was a good line to take. While there was no specific mention of anything called the ‘Wild’ - before long he was shoving one of the books across the table to Ray.

“Look at this,” he cried. “There’s talk of a jungle, in these stories, and something inside it. A lot of these were originally written in previous forms of the language, but if you translate them it’s something like… like a _grail_ , I suppose? Everything that distinguishes this specific jungle is talk about quests, about searches for something hidden in there - something powerful and holy.”

“I think it must be the tower,” Ray replied, thoughtfully. “It was hidden in a temple in the Wild. Maybe that temple’s even older than we thought, older even than the Wild kingdom… maybe it dates back to the time of the gods. Because look at this.”

He held out his own book, flicking between several pages. It was a very old book of mythology that contained drawings based off old etchings and statues that’d been found at historical sites throughout the Plains, and preserved in museums - Geoff looked at each of the recreations, but saw nothing new, just familiar pictures of the gods.

“What about this?” he asked.

“What are they standing on?” Ray asked patiently.

“Podiums? Pretty normal for pictures based off statues.”

“Look closely,” Ray prompted, and Geoff squinted. “There’s no colour, but…”

“Holy shit.” It wasn’t just podiums the gods were standing on - it was cubes, stacked on top of each other. Five, to be precise. It was hard to tell without colours, but…

“The gold tower,” Geoff said.

“Exactly,” Ray replied. “And if you think about the mural that you and Ryan found, how Midas touched the tower and received the gift… considering how all the gods have been linked to the tower… now, don’t burn me at the stake for this, but Gavin said something that I think actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Oh gods, go ahead,” Geoff said, bracing himself for one of Gavin’s ridiculous theories.

“No, I mean it, this… this makes sense. What if they weren’t gods at all, but people with gifts like the kings? What if this tower used to have the power to _give_ them those gifts - give them abilities beyond this world?”

Geoff stared at him for a moment.

That was probably the most blasphemous thing he’d ever heard, yet it made a horrible sort of sense. He blinked a few times, struggling to take it in. He’d never been overly religious - not like some in his kingdom - but belief in the gods was just something everyone grew up with, something they took for granted. Everyone had a favourite, a special one who they made offerings to regularly in exchange for protection. He never thought too hard about them, but he tended to assume they _existed_.

It was just like Gavin to come up with something like that. He’d always made fun of the priests and priestesses at the convents and cathedrals in the Plains.

But this - this wasn't as far-fetched as Geoff might’ve liked to think.

“They weren’t gods at all,” he murmured. “Just… kings? But they have no crowns in these pictures.”

“No crowns,” Ray agreed, “But powers just like the gifts. Think about it - every god has one specific power, right? One area of specialty. Maybe this tower was hidden in the Wild, before it _was_ the Wild. Right where those painted stones we found were, even - locked up to keep it safe? And the quests people went on were to find the gold tower that they’d heard could make them a god.”

“And Midas was one of the ones who succeeded,” Geoff said, catching on.

“But his power was too strong,” Ray continued, “He misused it, and the others turned on him and… what? Threw him into a portal?”

They considered this idea in silence for a moment, Geoff still trying to wrap his head around it.

“It’s all speculation,” he said finally, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah - yeah, of course. After all, what happened to the other gods? Where did the crowns come from? Where’s the tower, and why is the Wild all destroyed?”

“Lots of unanswered questions,” Geoff muttered.

“But lots of new theories, too,” Ray said. His eyes were shining now - there was something captivating about watching him lean forward, about how his usually quite monotone voice rose in excitement as he began threading things together. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Before there were crowns, anyone who had a mysterious gift would’ve been seen as a god. And the source of it all being some magical tower in the Wild explains why these answers got lost for so long. No one’s ever been able to enter the Wild before - so no one saw evidence of the tower! But now that we have, the links are fucking obvious in all this previous research people have done.”

“Wow,” Geoff said, as Ray opened all the books to various pictures of the tower - usually unidentifiable due to lack of colour, it just seemed like five blank squares - unless you knew what you were looking for. “You really put things together there.”

Ray shrugged, seeming a bit embarrassed now. But there had been something nice about seeing him so engaged with something - the way his eyes had lit up as he started to make connections, the answers unfolding in front of him.

“I mean it,” Geoff insisted, “You’re smart.” And then, on impulse - because Ray looked so bashful, so _shy_ at the sudden compliment, “How can Michael not be in love with you?”

Ray stiffened. The silent library suddenly seemed even more silent, and Geoff registered what he’d just blurted out. He felt his face heat, because, _fuck, okay, that was a thing to say_.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ray asked, slowly.

Shit. Well this was awkward.

“Nothing,” he said. “Sorry. Just… seeing you together… you’d be a good match. Sorry, I’m making it awkward, ignore me.”

Ray huffed - to Geoff’s relief, he seemed to be amused, more than anything.

“I agree with that, obviously,” he said, and Geoff chuckled. “But you can’t force his feelings - I see that now. Maybe he… maybe he’ll come around. Or he won’t. Maybe my feelings will change - maybe _I’ll_ find someone else. Either way, I don’t want to lose him.”

Geoff began to nod, glad - but Ray turned to him then, something a little vindictive in his grin as he said, “So how can _you_ not be in love with _Gavin_?”

Geoff froze, the question making him stop short, his heart pounding.

“Back before, in the games,” Ray continued, “I saw how well you two got along. You didn’t care that he wasn’t a king. I could see how much you cared about him… sorry,” he said, as he seemed to finally realise that Geoff’s jaw was tight and his fists clenched.

Hearing someone else say it hurt - but Geoff took a deep breath.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, and huffed out a bitter laugh. “It’s true. I did.”

“I guess he’s changed now,” Ray said softly.

“We’ve all changed,” Geoff replied. “War, time, the games… this whole fucked up situation with the beasts.”

“So he’s too different now?” Ray pressed, and Geoff looked away, closing his eyes.

The problem was, despite how hard he’d tried not to, he _could_ still see Gavin in the Wild king. In those ridiculous cats, in how he interacted with Dan, in the way he used bravado and theatrics to mask his vulnerability. Maybe it’d be easier if he couldn’t.

And suddenly, it was hard to say that he didn’t love him any more. It shouldn’t be, especially to a stranger - or maybe that was why. It was easier to be honest with those you didn’t know well.

“I like Gavin,” Ray cut in suddenly, saving him from having to answer. Geoff opened his eyes in time to see the other man turning away, fidgeting with the edge of one of the books. “I despised him during the games just because he and Michael got along - stupid, right? But since meeting him here… I wanna get to know him more, I think.”

“I think you two would get along,” Geoff said softly. He believed it, too. Their senses of humour would mix well. He thought they’d make good friends.

Ray smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Don’t trust him though,” Geoff couldn’t help adding, but this time, there was no heart in it. “He turns on people.”

"You don’t believe that,” Ray replied instantly, not having it for a second. “What reason would he have to turn on me?”

Geoff opened his mouth - but faltered at _reason_. Which, great, now he was forced to think about what _he_ might’ve done that made Gavin turn on _him_. Which was… what? Not help Gavin find his parents. Not listen to him, during the games. Not give him the chances he needed - so he had to _take_ that chance when he did finally have a way to.

Maybe it had been ruthless of Gavin. But thinking back on it - Geoff had been so angry with him, because of what’d happened with Ryan. He hadn’t meant to be, but he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he just got wrapped up in it all. When you lead the biggest of the five kingdoms, you needed to keep a fierce hold on things. There was no room for mistakes - and he’d made mistake after mistake at the games.

His eyes throbbed, and he realised suddenly just how tired he was. He didn’t answer, but looked up at Ray. In the red-tinged light, the other man looked concerned, suddenly. Almost caring. And tired, as well - it’d been a long day and a longer night. But they’d been productive, at least. The theories they’d come up with, the research - that was progress.

“Let’s pack these books up, then,” Geoff said, rising with a yawn. “We might need them later.”

“Are we staying in the city tonight? It’s late,” Ray said, moving to put them into a pile.

“I’m not sure. We’ll go to meet Ryan and Gavin, and see. It might be better to go back to the others.”

 

* * *

 

Somehow, there was something much scarier about patrolling the Wild at night than the Alps. Michael was used to the cold, the fog, the sky blending into the snow-covered ground until you weren’t sure where the horizon began and ended, making it seem like you were walking through some empty nothingness.

But this - this was different. With the trees closing in around him, a constant cage of branches and vines tripping him up and brushing his shoulders as he passed - it was hard to see in here, hard to breathe the thick stagnant air. There were too many places for things to hide, and what was most terrifying about the Wither was how silent he knew they were - how easily they might sneak up.

Still. With the light of their flaming torches and an army of mobs and soldiers around him, he was somewhat reassured. They’d already killed two Wither that’d ventured close to the castle, but for the most part everything was empty and quiet, not a soul in sight.

Jack was with him - Dan too, walking a little distance away - and after a time they moved up next to each other.

“Where should we go next?” Michael asked Dan. Gavin’s other friends were still back at the castle, but Dan had come out to help them - mostly so they wouldn’t get lost, especially in the dark.

Dan hummed, thoughtfully.

“They haven’t gotten close, it looks like,” he said. “We’re near the ravine - that big slope Gavin probably took you down to get to the temples. I don’t think they’ve made it up from there. They’re still in the lower levels of the jungle.”

“Dare we go down there,” Jack said, ominously.

“I dare!” Michael yelled immediately, and Dan laughed.

“No need to take unnecessary risks,” he replied. “We can just guard the edge.”

“That’s funny, coming from you,” Jack teased.

Dan gave a small smile.

“I’m the bravest of all,” he said.

“More like the stupidest of all,” Jack said. “Always the first to volunteer for the dangerous shit, since you arrived.”

“We’ve got a lot to prove, us country boys,” Dan replied. “Those noble-born soldiers we were in training with thought they were the queen’s tits.”

Michael gave him a funny look, and Dan shrugged, grinning.

“I mean it. Once you’ve got through training, everyone’s the same. But until then, there are idiots and assholes who think they’re better than everyone else. The sons of lords and ladies trying to live up to their parents’ names.”

“I know,” Jack said, voice a bit softer now. “You’ve proved yourself over and over.”

“Yeah, well.” Dan shrugged. “Now I’m the best soldier in the Wild kingdom.”

“Aren’t you the only soldier?” Michael pointed out, and Dan furiously shushed him. Jack laughed - Dan did too, after a moment, but it faltered a bit awkwardly when Jack reached out and touched his arm.

“I’ve missed you around,” he said, quietly. “Not just Gavin.”

Dan looked away, seeming almost embarrassed, but Jack didn’t drop the topic.

“Do you miss the Plains?” he asked. “Gavin bargained for you, you know. You’re not banished any more.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“He chose you over himself.”

Dan stiffened.

“Typical Gav,” he said, shaking his head. “He failed to mention that part. Well, it hardly matters. I doubt Geoff wants me back there, anyway.”

“You don’t have to return to court, but you could come visit,” Jack urged. “The rest of the soldiers miss you. _Burnie_ misses you.”

Dan smiled again, but still seemed hesitant.

“Figured they’d all hate me for turning on you guys,” he muttered. “Nothing worse than a traitor, right?”

“You’re not a traitor,” Jack said, firmly. “They miss Gavin, too. Some of them even blame Geoff.”

Michael could only watch in silence. The last few months all his thoughts about the Plains’ political situation had centred around Mark Nutt. He hadn’t thought much about how people would’ve known how close Gavin and Geoff were - what those in their inner circle might’ve thought about what had happened.

“That’s not fair,” Dan said. “Even I can see that it’s not Geoff’s fault, as much as I love Gavin. Things happened the way they did, and I regret that there’s bad blood between us now, but it’s not _anyone’s_ fault. Not Gavin’s, not Geoff’s. A lot of different factors went into it. It all just built up - no one person or event set things off.”

“I wish everyone saw it so simply,” Jack replied, sadly. “I mean it, Dan. Come visit, okay?”

Dan tilted his head.

“When we’re not under threat from deathly skeletons from beyond the void,” he decided, and Jack laughed.

“Good point. We’ll grab a pint.”

Dan nodded.

“We’re near the ravine,” he said. “I’ll go ahead a bit with some of the mobs and see what’s going on - we should spread out and have a look around.”

He walked off, leaving Michael and Jack walking together in a slightly awkward silence.

“You guys are close,” Michael commented, eventually. “Like me and my men. I like that, at least in my kingdom - there shouldn’t be such a big divide between kings and their subjects.”

“Geoff agrees,” Jack said, and Michael snored.

“Yeah, but Ray and Ryan don’t.”

“Their leadership styles suit their kingdoms and their gifts,” Jack said, immediately. “You and Geoff… your gifts operate _with_ people. Yours in combat, his in communication… you’re meant to use them to engage with others. But Ray and Ryan… Redstone, plants - to their people, the two of them are precious resources. So they elevate them. They’re lifegivers - worldbuilders.”

“Gods?” Michael asked, in amusement.

“Humans,” Jack said, “But integral to the survival of their communities. So of course they have to be more careful.”

“And Gavin?” Michael asked.

Jack laughed.

“Gods know what Gavin is,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s hard to categorise him.”

Michael smiled a bit. The fondness in Jack’s eyes was present even when just talking about Gavin, and he felt suddenly quite sad.

“You three,” he began, and saw Jack stiffen. “I wish it could work out for you. I wish everyone could just fucking be happy.”

“Me too,” Jack whispered.

“It seems like it should be easy,” Michael said. He kicked at the ground, frustrated. “After all, you all love each other. If the feelings are there… I mean, Ray and I talked earlier today. We finally made up. And if it was that easy for us with just a fucking _conversation_ …”

Jack looked surprised, then pleased.

“I’m glad you made up,” he said, then sighed. “The problem is Geoff. What Gavin did hurt him a lot, especially because of how it triggered things with Nutt afterwards. He was already stressed and everything combined to make it a very, very bad eight months. There were… some really, _really_ low points.” He huffed out a humourless laugh. “I know it might seem like he’s being stubborn, or cruel, or… or stupid about this. But he was so hurt, Michael.”

“I know,” Michael replied, quietly. “I saw it, in his face, when Gavin put on the crown, and after…”

He trailed off. There was a rather morose silence as they trudged through the Wild, moving towards the dark drop of the ravine. Jack’s shoulders were hunched and Michael’s heart ached to see him like that. He wasn’t good at this… this emotional shit, he didn’t know what to _say_ -

But he remembered Ray, and Gavin, and their trip to the temple, and how much that had helped.

“So before,” he blurted out. “The three of you… what were you guys like? What did you do together? What did _you_ like to do, Jack? I know Gavin, and Geoff a little, but not you.”

Jack laughed, startled.

“I… okay, there’s a question. We’d go swimming, sometimes - that was fun. Or on trips camping, when Geoff could spare the time away. Stargazing. Or riding - Gavin never liked that, only when he was with one of us and could hold on.”

“I think that was an excuse to cling to you,” Michael pointed out in amusement, and Jack laughed.

“Probably. We’d go out on the town for drinks with Geoff in disguise. He liked that - just being among his people, hearing them talk freely. Said it helped him understand their concerns better, you know? What they think of things, what they complain about. And when he was disguised like that, it was easy to forget he was a king. There were no boundaries - just the three of us, drinking and playing pub games and making stupid bets. Simpler times.”

“That sounds really nice,” Michael said softly, and Jack glanced at him and gave a small smile.

“You remind me of Geoff,” he said. “In the way you interact with your men. He likes you, you know.”

That took Michael by surprise. He’d looked up to Geoff for so long that to hear that, even now, made him feel suddenly a bit flustered.

“What, really?” he asked, a bit shyly.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Probably because you guys are so similar. But he speaks highly of you - he got on well enough with your father, but even when you first inherited, he thought you’d do well.”

“Oh,” Michael said, and wasn’t quite sure what else to do. He smiled, and Jack smiled back, but after a moment he sighed again.

“Either way,” he said. “It’s not just Geoff. It’s complicated now with… with all three of us. Gavin’s a king now. Things aren’t the same as they were before.”

“So? Geoff’s a king too, why should that change anything?”

“Because,” Jack said - a thinly veiled frustration, bordering on _hurt_ in it - “When it was just Geoff, Gav and I were on equal level, kinda. I mean, I was still ranked above him, but… we both weren’t part of the crown bond you guys have. Now, they’re connected so intimately and I’m… not.”

It dawned on Michael, and he felt a little guilty suddenly. He hadn’t thought much about Jack being left out with all the rest of them around and connected like they were. It must be rather isolating, especially when they were having such frequent discussions about crowns and gifts and magic.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I get that. It was strange when Ray was bonded to the others and I wasn’t. He would tell me how he could feel all this stuff - with Geoff, with Ryan, with my father - and I just couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t even imagine what he was talking about. And when I _did_ end up linked to him… it was like we suddenly knew each other more deeply than ever before. It fades, over time. You get comfortable with it. And yes, it helps you to connect with someone, but you can still have meaningful relationships with people outside of it. Hell, look at Gav and Dan.”

“They’re not into each other,” Jack muttered.

“True,” Michael said. “But how about just you and Geoff, then? You’re still important to him. And you can read how he’s feeling better than any of us, with or without the bond.”

Jack just shrugged, and Michael bit his lip, feeling helpless. It was clear nothing he said could really help.

“Sometimes,” Jack muttered, “I hated that he could feel Gav these last eight months and I couldn’t. Sometimes, I thought I deserved to more. Because I cared more about him. Awful, right?”

“No,” Michael said, quietly. “It’s only human.”

Jack didn’t look convinced, and Michael rather awkwardly reached out and squeezed his hand. Jack jumped a little, surprised.

“Hey,” Michael said, a bit lamely. “It’ll be okay.”

He felt very strange being the one to do the comforting. The words felt silly, but even if Jack didn’t look like he quite believed him, he smiled gratefully and squeezed Michael’s hand back.

They’d reached the ravine, and looked down. Dan came back over.

“Nothing’s near the edge. Looks like they’ve pushed back into the forest and are staying away from the castle, at least for now. They’re scattered so they’re avoiding us. Shows they’re smart. We’ll keep the sentries posted here tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin stayed silent as Ryan led him down to the lab. That was unsettling - it meant Ryan had no idea what he was thinking.

He himself felt quite nervous, though he’d never let it show. His stomach was churning as he descended the stairs and turned the key to the laboratory door. It felt strange to be back in here together, and as they entered the room his mind flashed immediately back to what’d happened last time. This was where the two of them had gotten so close. Where they’d _kissed_.

He wondered if Gavin was thinking about it, too.

The lab was just as he’d left it. Most of the old projects had been cleared away to make space for the golems, which had taken priority. There were a variety of them scattered around, various designs and modifications in place, most of them half finished. A few completed golems were actually working on putting together some of the established designs - Ryan dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

“Interesting,” Gavin said suddenly, stepping towards one of the newer versions that Ryan had been making adjustments on. It had a much bulkier design, was meant for heavy-lifting - Ryan intercepted him before he could get too close.

“Don’t touch,” he snapped, and Gavin lifted his hands defensively and turned away.

Ryan ignored him, moving to clear away a bench. He opened his bag, and pulled the Wither out, careful to avoid its teeth, which it was snapping for lack of ability to move anything else. He’d been half afraid its limbs would start growing back or something, but it was just as maimed as before. It looked horrible, lying on the bench under the harsh redstone lights - its ribs prominent, its twisted face and empty eye sockets glaring up at them.

“That’s bloody horrifying,” Gavin said, coming up to look and screwing his face up. “What’ve you done to it?”

“Immobilised it,” Ryan replied coldly. He strapped it down, just in case, and then wrestled a bag over its head so that it couldn’t bite. With its face hidden, it was less unsettling.

“First things first,” he said, and dug deeper into his bag. “The book.”

“I nearly forgot about that!” Gavin’s eyes lit up as Ryan took out the leather-bound volume that he’d discovered on the floor of the portal room. “This is our best chance to actually know what that portal was and who built it.”

“Exactly,” Ryan replied. He sat down at one of the benches, and Gavin hesitated, then tentatively sat next to him, holding the book between them so they could both see. They had to lean quite close together, and Ryan was too aware of his own breathing, of how if he moved too much his arm might brush against Gavin’s. He took control, opening the book and flicking to the first page.

“Shit,” Gavin said immediately, “This person’s handwriting is worse than mine! Is that even our language?”

“Some archaic form of it.” Ryan flicked through the book quickly to get a sense of what they were looking at. Dates and times were written at the top of each page.

“It’s a journal!” Gavin said, but Ryan shook his head.

“It’s not a journal,” he said slowly. “It’s a log. A record. Made deliberately for people to know what they were working on… what was going on here? An… experiment?” He paused at a page filled with calculations in a table, and it dawned on him. “Look - this is where they experimented with Ender pearls. It looks like they were doing the same as us - trying to make an Eye of Ender. They were scientists!”

Gavin’s eyes lit up.

“Where we found those ancient stone tablets - they were in what looked like a lab in one of the old temples. Those tablets must’ve been instructions that they either made, or were following, to create an Eye of Ender. But why - what were they trying to do with it?”

“It’s all in here,” Ryan realised. It took him a moment, but the writing was indeed in their language, and he soon adjusted to reading it. “Look, he speaks of castles and kings and the court - the people - this is from before the Wild kingdom collapsed.”

He took a moment to read, skimming over what looked like a list of names of people involved in the project, and rather a lot of references to who was _allowed_ to know about it. _Highly classified, apparently_.

“In our investigations into the oldest temple,” he read aloud, finally, “We have finally realised what the tower is. It grants any who touch it the power to transform things into gold. The ancient myths of Midas were true after all - and we have finally found a way to get to the otherworld where the gods imprisoned both him and the tower, seeing them as abominations… if we were to enter this portal, the tower could be retrieved and the Woodland kingdom would be made rich. Even the Stoneworld and their redstone would have no power over us. And then it looks like there’s a bunch of failed attempts to make the Eye of Ender, and notes on how to create the portal… fuck.”

“What?” Gavin demanded, leaning in over his shoulder to look.

Ryan stared at the page, making sure he was reading it correctly.

“To activate and open the portal… it looks like they resorted to human sacrifices.”

“What the _fuck_?” Gavin asked.

“Yikes,” was all Ryan could mutter - he heard Gavin give a startled little giggle next to him at that, but barely registered it, wrapped up in what he was reading. “Based on the research into the gods they’d done… seems like they got the idea they needed to spill the _blood of the five kingdoms_ in order for it to work. They killed five people to open the damn thing!”

“Holy hell. That’s… that’s messed up,” Gavin said, and Ryan nodded, slowly.

“Yeah - seems the base was already there, and they assumed the gods made it to hide the tower. They made sacrifices to each of the gods that were displayed in the temple in order to open it.”

“All just to find this tower!” Gavin exclaimed.

“I mean, it gives people the power to turn things into gold. For a lot of people, that’s tempting.”

Gavin let out a little huff.

“Go to what happened when they opened the portal!” he said. He was practically bouncing in his seat. Ryan flicked away from the experiment notes to the rest of the journal entries, and Gavin sucked in his breath. “Wow, I thought the handwriting couldn’t get any worse!”

“Looks like they wrote this while… running and hiding? Shit, there’s blood on the page too,” Ryan said, thumbing over the messy ink before continuing to read. “We have successfully opened the portal. As soon as we did, a rush of some sort of invisible force came out. Magic, we think - it swept the land like a wind, and the Endermen went mad. Their eyes turned red, and they are killing everyone they encounter. They’re tearing the buildings apart - seizing anything they can get their hands on, stone and wood alike, and disappearing with them in chunks. Buildings are crumbling and falling apart. They are destroying the entire land…” Ryan paused, squinting at the page. “And here, they’ve drawn a sad face.”

“Fucking hell,” Gavin muttered.

“The magic is making the plants and trees grow wild. Our very kingdom is being taken away from us - our punishment from the gods for the slaughter of innocents. I am going to attempt to return to the temple to close the portal. It’s all I can do - who knows what’s on the other side. Whatever it is, it has unleashed something that cannot-”

Ryan flipped the page, but there was nothing on the other side except a ragged, messy streak of ink. The journal ended there. Gavin looked at the empty pages, and gave a sad nod.

“Yeah, they’re dead,” he observed.

Ryan rolled his eyes, and shut the book.

“Well then,” he said. “We know how the Wild was destroyed, then.”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured. “Shit. So their attempt backfired pretty horribly, right?”

“Why would the Endermen go mad when the portal opened?” Ryan mused, and Gavin chewed thoughtfully at his lip, casting a wary glance at the corner of the room. Ryan looked up, and jolted as he suddenly remembered that Gavin had brought three Endermen along to run experiments on. They were standing against the wall, and after what he’d just read, the sight of their shadowy forms sent a shiver down his spine.

“Endermen hunt those who are guilty of crimes,” Gavin said, slowly. “They… they would’ve been under the control of the Wild ruler, but I guess the magic from the portal overpowered the magic of the gift? Maybe? And they realised the Wild kingdom had done something terribly wrong and were moved to take revenge and destroy the whole damn place.

“Once everyone was dead… I guess they fell under the command of the gift again. Or maybe the writer of that journal _did_ manage to turn the portal off and that ended things, and only recently it got turned back on? After all, this was before the Wild was all overgrown, so it must’ve been hundreds of years ago. Bloody hell, though, I don’t trust the Endermen now! I might just… lock them all in a room or something. Oh, gods, they’re looking at us. Turn around!”

He waved a hand and the Endermen all turned to face the wall. Ryan felt himself relax a little - not having to see their intense purple eyes fixed on him was a relief.

“So that’s what happened,” he murmured. “No wonder they kept it all so secret - they wanted the riches for themselves.”

“What a treasure this tower is,” Gavin replied. “I wonder exactly what it is and where it came from! It’s like a crown, isn’t it - except you touch it and you get the power.”

“And more than one person can have it?”

“They seemed to think so. Or at least, they intended for at least one of them to get it.”

They fell silent. The Endermen’s presence in the corner had a heavy tension hanging in the air. After a moment, Gavin cleared his throat a bit awkwardly.

“What some people do for money…”

“So says the thief,” Ryan replied, automatically.

Gavin stared at him. Ryan turned, expecting him to be glaring, or for some cutting retort to fall from his lips - but Gavin just shook his head slowly and slid off his stool, turning away.

“I’m tired, Ryan,” he said.

“What?” Ryan asked, rather surprised.

Gavin rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms up over his head before letting them fall limply back to his sides. He paced across the lab, glancing at the rows of half-finished golems that lay on the benches like corpses in a tomb.

“It’s not easy being king - you know that. It’s hard having to build an entire kingdom, taking care of everyone… I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to explain myself and people not listening. I’m tired of being hated without getting the chance to tell my side of the story. I’m tired of not knowing what happened to my parents - and I’m tired of being separated from the people I love, of them thinking I did this just to hurt them. My friends… they’re amazing, and they support me and believe in me and I’m so glad I’ve made them a home. But everyone else thinks I’m, what? Thief. Fool. Selfish. Traitor. Witch. _Curse_.”

The words dropped like stones in the silence, heavy and painful. Gavin wrapped his arms around himself and rocked on his heels.

“When people keep saying it,” he said, in a soft, broken whisper, “It’s hard not to start to believe it.”

Ryan looked away, jaw clenched. Fuck, but he’d been spending too much time with Jack lately. It was making him feel _guilty_ , seeing Gavin so upset - thinking of their last interaction, their fight. How taking his revenge, finally _hurting_ the other man, hadn’t brought him the relief he needed.

“Okay,” he heard himself say, and Gavin turned, looking at him in confusion. He swallowed, hard, and continued, “Okay. Explain. You think you can convince me to understand why you did it? Go on, then.”

Gavin looked taken aback. Then he shook his head.

“I’m not trying to _convince_ you of everything,” he said, but Ryan just continued to look at him expectantly, and slowly Gavin seemed to realise he was serious. He turned around properly to face Ryan, and gave a slow nod.

“Okay then,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Let me tell you two stories.”

“I suppose that used to be your job,” Ryan murmured, settling back on his stool, and Gavin gave a little laugh.

“Born entertainer, that’s me.” He shook himself out, cast Ryan another hesitant little glance - and when Ryan continued to watch him, patiently, he finally seemed to be reassured.

“Here’s the first one, then. This story is about King Ryan. _Mad_ King Ryan, they call him. They think he is a villain, a wicked man, that he rules with an iron fist, that he executes any who disagree with him - but that is the shadow his mother has cast.”

It was almost unsettling, the confidence he gained as he spoke - his voice projecting through the whole lab, seeming to fill the entire space until Ryan nearly forgot where they were, his entire attention focused on Gavin, standing before him - Gavin, gazing into the distance as though addressing some larger audience.

“In reality, King Ryan… oh, King Ryan. The unsung hero. He killed his mother to save his people. He didn’t want to do it. He’s never trusted anyone, because no one ever got close enough. His mother, her councillors, his very court - all of them people whose morals didn’t align with his. He knows better than them. He went to the Plains to study, to get away from it all - to find help, if he could. But no one believes him - not Geoff, not Michael, not even his own people. He tries his hardest, he uses his infamy for protection. He’s never been loved, so how can he know what it’s like?”

“This is a fine tale,” Ryan cut in, stiffly. Every word sent a funny thrill through his stomach - fear, at being bared so suddenly - but also a strange exhilaration at someone else finally seeming to _acknowledge_ it, to put into words everything he’d felt for so long.

“It gets better,” Gavin replied, not quite looking at him. “Sadder, too.”

He took the ends of his scarf and shook it out, wrapping it around his shoulders, shrouding himself in the green skins.

“Along comes the creeper boy,” he continued. “Mystery boy. Witchy boy. Orphan boy who no one ever loved. They connect - their lives are too similar. For the first time, someone understands him. For the first time, someone else knows what it’s like.”

Ryan’s breath felt like it was stuck in his throat. Gavin was pacing across the lab, staring up at his own shadow, cast tall against the wall in the harsh light of the redstone torches.

“So King Ryan falls in love,” he said. “Hard and fast because he-”

Ryan rose, suddenly, taking a furious step towards him - couldn’t bear to hear it, suddenly. Wasn’t sure if he could take it. But Gavin turned towards him, and didn’t flinch even as Ryan moved right up to him, looming threateningly.  
  
“Because he hasn’t ever felt like this before,” he finished, voice quiet but unwavering. “So it happens quickly. More quickly than he knows what to do with. He wants this, so he goes for it - they’ve known each other three days, but what does time matter? He’s waited thirty years for something like this. Three days is long enough. The emotions are like an ocean, like a whole new world that’s opened up before him, and he wants to take it all in, take as much as he can, as _fast_ as he can, because otherwise he might lose it again. Lose his chance.”

His eyes met Ryan’s, and they were so close that Ryan could feel that warm tingle of magic starting up in his chest again. He stepped back until it faded, leaving Gavin standing alone. Couldn’t bring himself to be so close - to reveal what he was feeling.

“So he offers the creeper boy to stay with him,” Gavin continued, softly. “To rule together, to take the crown. King Ryan will wear it, of course. He knows how to rule - besides, the creeper boy doesn’t want power. He thinks everything is good, that he will stay, that they’ll have a happy ending.”

He paused, looking away, half his face cast in shadow.

“But it’s all a lie,” he said, softly. “And Ryan is robbed, betrayed, turned on, and _Gavin_ , Gavin takes the crown for himself. Ryan feels used. Like I never cared at all - like I only wanted what you had to give me.”

“Is that not,” Ryan replied, stiffly, “ _Exactly_ what happened?”

Gavin stood for a long moment of silence, turned away. Then, eventually, he shook himself and hoisted his scarf back up to wrap it around his neck, bouncing on his feet a few times before turning back to Ryan with a very obviously fake grin plastered on his face.

“Time for story number two!” he declared.

Ryan could only stare at him. He was confused, his mind turning in on itself, unable to quite register all this. Because Gavin’s words, his _story…_

It was clear that he did understand exactly what he’d done to Ryan, why Ryan felt like he did. And if he knew that so well, how could he possibly keep insisting that he was in the right?

Still. He walked silently back to his stool, Gavin waiting patiently. As soon as he sat down, Gavin sprang to life, chin lifting high.

“This story is about little orphan Gavin,” he announced - Ryan scoffed a little, and Gavin’s lips twitched, but he quickly continued. “He grew up unwanted; his parents abandoned him. He has no idea who they were, or why. He runs away from the orphanage and joins the circus - that’s not as fun as the stories might have you believe. He runs away from the circus, and becomes a thief. Have you ever lived on the streets, Ryan?”

It was clearly not a question that required an answer, but Gavin still met his eyes for a long, challenging moment before turning away.  
  
“It’s kind of like the court,” he said. “People trying to take things from you, trick you, fool you. Kill you. No friends - who can you trust? You guard your place as hard as you can. Here’s little Gavin - no home. No one who’s ever loved him. And then along come Geoff and Jack. The king and his advisor. It takes a long time - years, even - but he eventually grows to trust them.”

He was skimming over the details - things that Ryan had, in fact, been rather curious about - but he wasn’t about to stop him and ask him to expand more on how he’d met the other two. Why they’d let him in so quickly.

“But always,” Gavin continued, “He wants to know about his parents. Where he came from. Why they left. And the scarf provides his greatest clue. The witches might have answers - but Geoff insists on going to the games instead. So Gavin goes, because Geoff needs him. Because Geoff asked. Because Geoff is a king and you have to obey your king, don’t you? If you’re… loyal. If you trust them.”

His voice faltered a little, and something tightened in Ryan’s chest. But Gavin recovered quickly, his voice rising again.  
  
“And then,” he declared, “He meets King Ryan. King Ryan, who sees the scarf and wants to know what it is. King Ryan who he’s been warned about so many times - _he’ll use you. Manipulate you_. King Ryan who sees him, and the first thing he tries to do is convince him not to trust Geoff, Geoff who took him in, who he grew up with, who he knows Ryan _hates_.”

He clenched his fists, his voice growing tight.

“King Ryan,” he pointed out, “Who calls him _stupid_ and _boy_ and accuses him of being an assassin and who makes sure he knows _…”_ A harsh laugh, a shake of his head. “ _Exactly_ what his place is.”

Gods. Okay. Maybe Ryan hadn’t given the best first impression - he only really realised that now, seeing it spelled out. But he did remember that. Remembered being quite rough with Gavin - quite condescending. He hadn’t thought the other man would notice - or remember - things like that.

He should have known better.

“But the scarf!” Gavin cried, and whipped it off, staring at it - fluttering in the air, a bright streak of green life against the redstone and metal of the lab. “Ryan wants the scarf. So they work together on it, and they talk more, and Ryan starts to open up - or at least, it seems like he does. It _seems_ like they understand each other. It seems like an… opportunity. _Play along. Act like you trust him._ Because you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s doing to you.”

He paced, clutching at his hair, the scarf trailing from one hand behind him - as though wracked in the throes of thought.

“He thinks you’re working for Geoff,” he mused, aloud, “So he wants to get close to you to find out why. And it’s so, so fucking obvious, because he lets you into his lab, why else would he if he didn’t just want information? He’s trying to use you to get to Geoff. It wouldn’t be the first time - Geoff has enemies in the Plains court, too. When people realise how close you are, well. The fool seems like the weakest link.”

Ryan could only stare, transfixed - not even thinking, just taking things _in_.

“So King Ryan and Gavin,” Gavin said - he’d made his way closer to where Ryan sat, and stood now, staring straight at him. “Both playing each other, or trying to. Gavin gives him the scarf to try and convince him he’s besotted… and because, let’s be honest, Geoff deserved that.”

Ryan couldn’t help his soft snort at that, but his amusement faded quickly at Gavin’s next words.

“Ryan ‘ _accidentally_ ’ shows Geoff… of course he does. He wants to push Gavin closer to him. So Gavin pretends, and Ryan _pretends_ , and it’s been… three days? Four days? Not long at all, but Ryan seems to have fallen completely in love. Does he really think Gavin would believe things could change so fast in such a short period of time? It takes a long, long time to trust someone… in my experience, anyway. But at the same time, Geoff is pushing Gavin away. And the idea comes.”

He paused, swallowing - a heavy sort of dread building up in the silence. When he did speak, it was a whisper, yet somehow deafening.

“ _You need that crown to find your parents_.”

The desperation in it, even eight months after all that had happened, sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine. Gavin was staring up at the ceiling now, and the scars on his face stood out under the red lights. The shadows under his eyes - the weathered roughness that came with living outdoors.

“Geoff never prioritised them,” he continued. “If he wins the games, running the Wild when he already has to control the whole Plains will only occupy him even longer. Besides, he doesn’t _want_ you, not like you want him. Things will never work out between you… it will hurt more to stay. Michael… maybe he’d help, but you’d be relying on his generosity. You’ve known him three days too. He owes you nothing. Why would he care?”

He lowered his head and gave a helpless shrug.

“He needs the crown to find his parents,” he murmured. Then again, louder, more certain. “He needs the crown to find his parents. _He needs the crown_. He needs the freedom, the opportunity, the _control_. And there’s _Ryan_ -”

He surged forward suddenly, something accusing in it - Ryan struggled not to flinch back as Gavin suddenly strode towards him, like some charging feral beast, stopping just short of getting close enough that the magic between them would overwhelm them the way it had before. The bond rose in his chest, an unbearable tingle like his heart was vibrating, threatening to burst.

“There’s Ryan,” Gavin said, “Still trying to play him! Ryan who shows him the golems in a final bid to sway his trust. And as soon as he does… there it is. The manipulation he’s been waiting for. _Stay with me. I’ll treat you better. We’ll rule together -_ oh, very likely, you’ve known me three days. Why would you share your kingdom? _Geoff doesn’t deserve you. I do. Geoff will never love you - not like I do_.”

Ryan had gone completely stiff. Gavin’s imitation of his voice - low, thrumming, _hypnotic_ … hearing the words from someone else’s mouth like that…

It sounded like the devil whispering in his ear, like a snake, like poison seeping into his bones. And to him, at the time… he remembered how he’d felt almost drunk on the magic surging through him after creating redstone in that fit of anger against Geoff. He remembered how he’d felt like he was nearly in a trance, exhilarated at Gavin choosing _him_ , at finally showing him the golems, at the _kiss_ …

The words had spilled out because he’d _meant_ them. Because he thought it had been long enough, and these feelings were so foreign and unfamiliar that he’d wanted to let them out and share them and see where they would take them.

But to an outsider… oh, gods. To an outsider, especially one with trust issues the size of Gavin’s…

It sounded like a lie.

“Three days,” Gavin said. His fists were clenched; he was looking away, now. “Three _bloody_ days! How can you say things like that in such a short period of time? It had to be a lie. Geoff doesn’t love you after six years. Why would King Ryan love you after _three days_? And then - there’s the kicker - Ryan will wear the crown! Of course he will! There’s no guarantee for me. Still left relying on someone else’s generosity.”

Ryan couldn’t meet his eyes, but Gavin had turned away now, anyway, pacing back across the room.

“Still trying to play me,” he said, shaking his head. “So I play along. Kiss him as a show of trust. Steal the key. Ryan will be angry, when he finds out, but it will be because he was outwitted at his own game.”

His shoulders slumped and he fell silent as the story ended. Ryan could only stare at him, frozen. His chest felt tight and nervous, and he didn’t know what to say. After a moment, Gavin barked out a shaky laugh.

“Three days,” he said, in his normal, quiet voice. “Four days - how long was it? Less than a week, certainly. To you, it was a miracle. A connection, a sudden spark. You wanted to kindle that spark as long as you could, as quickly as you could, for fear you would lose it again. That makes sense, if you’d never felt something like that before. But to me… to me, it wasn’t long enough to even begin to trust someone, so when you acted like it _was_ , it seemed… suspicious.”

It felt too true, and Ryan swallowed hard as he realised it.

“Our upbringings are similar,” Gavin said, “But not similar enough that we saw things the same way there. We both have trust issues, but they manifested in… very, _very_ different ways. If I was your first love - or let’s not go that far, your first _potential_ for love… of course you clung to it. But at the time of the games, Ryan, I was feeling very unsure of myself. Geoff and Jack, after so long, had still given me no confirmation that they felt the same way. So I wasn’t in a great place to start trusting even more people, especially so quickly.”

“I see,” Ryan forced out, and Gavin turned and walked towards him - tentatively now, reaching out a hand.

“Ryan,” he said, and sounded soft and sincere and _sorry_ , now. “What happened… I never wanted to hurt you, not deliberately. I’m sorry if it seemed that way, and I’m sorry you did get hurt. I understand why you hate me. But please - understand _why_ I did it.”

Ryan swallowed hard. He rose from the stool, and turned away, folding his arms tightly.

The problem was, he could understand.

When Gavin said it like that… he could see exactly why the things he himself had done and the way he’d acted hadn’t come across very well. He’d assumed Gavin had seen his offers and affections for what they were. Awkward, but sincere. Instead, he’d only made himself look more and more manipulative by moving so quickly.

When he didn’t answer, Gavin sighed, and Ryan looked over in time to see his shoulders slump.

“Either way, I hope this hasn’t soured you off relationships forever,” he said, with forced cheer. “Because I’m sure there’s someone out there who will love you a lot.”

“And too many people who love you,” Ryan couldn’t help replying - but Gavin’s shoulders stiffened, and he looked up with furrowed brows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“You can’t see?”

“See _what_?”

Ryan just stared at him. Jack was making it pretty fucking clear that he was still into Gavin. And Michael probably wasn’t aware of it himself, but he stared at Gavin every time they were in the same room like a lovesick schoolgirl. Geoff’s anger was clearly a cover - and lately, even Ray had seemed to have softened towards him, more.

He didn’t reply, and Gavin shook himself.

“Anyway,” he said, a little too loudly. “Back to work!”

He turned away, but Ryan reached out.

“Wait,” he blurted out, only to freeze.

After all that… after that story, after finally _understanding_ … it felt like he should say something. He just couldn’t think what. Should acknowledge it, or… or _something_.

Mostly, he needed time to process this. He wasn’t sure how he felt now - about himself, or about Gavin, or about what had happened eight months ago.

Gavin turned to him, and he licked his lips a bit nervously.

“Those were… interesting stories,” he managed.

Gavin stared at him, before giving a small nod.

They got back to work in silence. Ryan put on gloves and went to examine the horrible Wither, lying there twitching on the bench. He was testing the samples to see if they were the same as the beasts, while Gavin took samples from the Endermen.

It was late at night, and they were both tired - but the work went faster with two, especially since Gavin was careful and precise in what he was doing. It was strange working with a lab partner again - lately, Ryan had been using the golems to help him with everything, as Kerry had been busy with other duties.

“It’s the same as the beasts,” Ryan concluded finally, after they’d been working a couple of hours. “Similar to the Endermen, but not the same - but definitely the same as the beasts.”

“So the beasts emerged from through the portal!” Gavin cried, somehow still managing to jump about excitedly even though it was probably the middle of the night by now. “If we want to stop any more appearing-”

“We have to destroy it,” Ryan determined.

Gavin reached out and high-fived one of the Endermen in excitement. It was strange to see its long arm slowly move up and slap against his - Gavin froze afterwards, staring at the creature, and Ryan moved forward, concerned.

"What is it?” he asked - he didn’t trust the mobs, not after reading about what’d happened to the Wild.

“I’ve just had a mad idea,” Gavin said, slowly.

“Pray share.”

“Okay. Okay, so - one of the reasons I can use the mobs to explore the Wild is because if I concentrate, I can see through their eyes and kind of… monitor what they’re experiencing, right? And if something kills one of them, when they respawn I can see the memories, usually, though they’re sometimes fractured and hard to understand.”

“I follow you,” Ryan said, still not quite sure where this was going.

“Now, based on that journal entry, we know the Endermen have been around since way back before the Wild was destroyed. And they’re the same ones - when they die, they respawn. So that means they’ve seen everything - _everything_! Both the Wild being destroyed and possibly even before that - how the portal got there in the first place, and where the tower went. If I could see into their minds… I might be able to read exactly what happened, and we might know more about what’s on the other end of this thing - and how to close it!”

Ryan was listening intently, and as Gavin finished he nodded, immediately.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s good. It could work. We need solid answers on what they were trying to do and what this portal is. Even with this journal, there’s been too much guesswork.”

“Problem is, I don’t know if I can see back that far,” Gavin said. “Anything past a day or so tends to be foggy, and I’ve never tried to go further. We’re talking thousands of years, here.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Ryan crossed to his potions cabinet. “I have a potion that enhances the strength of my gift and lets me use it longer without wearing out. I developed it for when I needed to create large quantities of redstone and didn’t want to overtire. It should stop you from overtaxing yourself like you did earlier today. Here it is.”

He took out a bottle of black liquid and Gavin tilted his head suspiciously.

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?” he asked. He sounded like he was joking, so Ryan snorted, rolling his eyes.

“No, but even so, let’s wait until we’re together with the others again. You know, just in case something goes _horribly_ wrong.”

“That’s reassuring,” Gavin muttered, and Ryan tried to hide his smile as he tucked the bottle away and moved to pack things up.

“Let’s go see if Geoff and Ray are done. We should return to the Wild.”

Gavin nodded, and went to help clean. Ryan snuck a glance at him as he worked. Now that they had finished planning, his mind fell once again to Gavin’s explanations.

It was a sad story. He’d known that Gavin was upset about Geoff and Jack’s inadvertent rejection, that he found it hard to trust… but in his own anger and pain, he’d not put the pieces together to realise that of course, of _course_ Gavin hadn’t been able to trust him. Yes, the other man had tricked and played him, but he’d been doing it all under the assumption that Ryan been doing the exact same to him. Now, Ryan could see why he might’ve believed that.

He wasn’t sure what to think. He felt lost, even here in his own home and kingdom - still wary of getting hurt again.

But he was starting to think that maybe the feeling of being alone wasn’t much better, either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ookami-tenshi has drawn [Michael](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/148681347719/ookami-tenshi-drew-king-michael-from) and [Jack](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/148789197409/ookami-tenshi-drew-alil-of-what-i-think-jack) from this story! thank you so much, they look fab <3


	11. Chapter 11

The dawn sun filtered through the narrow windows of the Wild hall, sending the patchwork room aglow with warm golden light as the morning call of the birds began. There was a peaceful sleepiness to it. It had been a long night, but everyone had taken the chance to snatch a nap where they could, and after the dark, cold terror of the skeletons’ arrival, it was a relief for it to be a new day. In the morning sunlight, nothing felt as hopeless or as frightening.

The fire was still roaring in the centre of the hall, and they sat around it with cups of hot tea and fresh rolls as the sun slowly rose outside. Gavin had slept earlier, but he still felt faintly groggy from everything that’d gone on. He wrapped his hands around his warm cup and sipped his tea, trying not to look at Geoff. The other man hadn’t spoken to him since they returned from the Stoneworld and shared their findings with everybody. Now, Geoff sat, leaning against Jack’s side, a small and worn down figure.

Gavin himself was sitting beside Michael and Ray. Somehow it was reassuring to be with the other two young men - especially now that they’d made up, and instead of that horrible tension, there was instead a lingering, relieved _affection_.

Eventually, Ryan entered the room again. He’d been setting the golems to patrol, and now he strode up before them and looked down at Gavin.

“Ready?” was all he asked, and Gavin gave a weary nod.

“Yeah,” he said, and slowly heaved himself to his feet. Ryan was watching him carefully, and Gavin wasn’t sure what to think.

He’d been relieved to finally let the other man know his side of the story, and Ryan certainly hadn’t reacted _badly_. But he also hadn’t said much. Now, Gavin was just unsure what the other man thought of him.

Michael caught Gavin’s arm as he moved towards Ryan. Gavin looked down at him and couldn’t help his small smile. Michael looked so _concerned_ , with dark bags under his eyes and a little furrow to his brow. He couldn’t help the swell of fondness that rose up at the sight of him.

“Hey,” Michael said. “You sure you want to do this? Last time it… it hurt your head, or whatever.”

Gavin grinned at him, and squeezed his hand.

“I’m fine,” he assured him. “I’m doing something different here. Just, you know, shake me out of it if I start convulsing on the floor or anything. Ha ha.”

“Don’t _ha ha_ that,” Ray muttered. “That would be horrifying!”

Gavin grinned at him, too. Michael let go of him, though he still looked worried - but Jack looked up as well, now, and the genuine fear in his eyes made Gavin’s chest tighten. It must have terrified the other man to see him collapse earlier. Without the gift, he wouldn’t have been able to tell if Gavin was okay.

“Someone has to do this,” he said, staring Jack straight in the eyes. “Geoff and Ray’s information conflicts with what Ryan and I found. We need to know for sure which is correct. We need to know what happened. And it was all so long ago that this is the only way we _have_.”

Jack nodded, slowly, and Gavin smiled again before looking over at the side of the room where Dan was waiting, Griffon too. Both of them were watching intently, their arms folded. Gavin swallowed, and reached out with his mind, summoning in the Endermen, who’d been waiting outside. They filed in, and stood in a line before him.

It was too warm in here with the fire, and Gavin took off his scarf, passing it to Dan, who moved up to take it. As he stepped towards the shadowy forms of the Endermen, something nervous built up in his stomach. This all felt like some sort of odd ceremony, something dark and secret and holy.

Ryan offered him the potion, and Gavin looked up and met his eyes as he took it. There was no hostility in Ryan’s gaze, but it wasn’t apathetic. Just a steady _calmness_.

“Drink the whole thing,” he said, and Gavin uncorked the bottle only to immediately gag.

“Oh, bloody hell, this smells like shit,” he spluttered. “ _Literally_ like shit.”

“Some of the ingredients are fermented,” Ryan replied, dismissively, and Gavin held the bottle away from him, turning his face away to breathe fresh air.

“I may vom,” he announced. “If I do, make sure I don’t choke on it, someone.”

“I’ve got your back,” Dan piped up, immediately.

“Ta, B.”

“I’ve got the most experience dealing with your puke, after all,” Dan continued, and Gavin shot him a mock-hurt look.

“Come on. That was unnecessary.”

“Not my fault you’re a damn lightweight.”

“Pinch your nose,” Jack suggested, helpfully. “It’ll stop you tasting it.”

“I don’t think that’d work,” Michael mused. “His nose is too big. He can’t possibly pinch the entire thing shut.”

“Oh my gods,” Gavin said, indignantly. “I’m trying to save the world here and you’re all bullying me!”

Michael snorted, but Gavin was glad to see him grinning, the worry faded a little from his face. Jack was chuckling, too, and Ray - even Geoff and Ryan looked a little less grim and more amused. He lifted the bottle.

“Cheers lads,” he declared, and knocked it back.

He swallowed it so quickly he barely had time to taste it, but the aftertaste was thick and bitter. He coughed a few times, spitting and gagging as he tried to clear it from his throat.

“Holy shit,” he hissed. “Okay.”

A second later, it kicked in, and his eyes widened, one hand going out to steady himself against the nearest wall. He could feel everything - _everything_. It was like a curtain had been lifted that’d shrouded his senses. Suddenly everything was _clearer_ \- it felt like it had when he first received the gift. An awareness of every mob around him, near and distant. A thousand minds, a thousand eyes, all connected to him. It felt hard to focus on any one thing, because he wasn’t just in this room any more. He was outside at the construction site, and deep in every part of the Wild. At the lake, in the jungle, down in the dark pits that dotted the landscape. He barely even noticed when the others rose and started towards him.

“Does it hurt?” Geoff’s voice asked, and cut through it, bringing Gavin back to his own presence.

“No,” he replied. His voice felt distant and strange, and he realised he was hearing it through the Endermen in the room as well as being aware of saying it himself. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

He met Ryan’s eyes, focusing on that to bring himself into the present - that clear blue against the darkness of the room, the warmth of the fire on his skin, the overwhelming _openness_ of his mind. After a moment, the other man nodded, and Gavin took a deep breath.

He walked up to the Endermen, their eyes tracking his movements as he got closer and closer. He closed his eyes, and reached out to them with his mind. They moved in a circle around him, and he felt them stretch their hands out and lay them on him; his shoulders, his back, a heavy palm settling on top of his head. Closed in by the enormous dark forms, he took a deep breath - and let himself fall away into their memories.

 

* * *

 

For a moment, it was all too much.

Gavin felt as though he was caught in a maelstrom, swept every which way on violent winds and tides, barely catching a glimpse of what was around him before he was being thrown away into something new. He saw the skeletons spilling out of the portal, Michael and Ryan backing away with swords raised, and felt the burning excitement of the Endermen as they stood witness. He saw flashes of himself, felt his own hand guiding the creatures to build, travel, hunt - felt the power of the Wild crown controlling everything they did, each order wiping everything else away. It was strange to see himself through their eyes - oddly small, when seen from the perspective of the tall beings, but always flooded out with thoughts of _obey. King. Leader._

_Chosen._

It took him some time to orient himself, but finally he managed to stop being tossed about in that overwhelming storm of memories, and focused on slowing down and actually managing to look at things closely and carefully. Once he had that in hand, it was easier to take control and filter through the memories, sending himself back further and further-

He fell into another memory. One Enderman in particular, stalking through the Wild - unseen in the shadows, teleporting now and then, flashing between trees and bushes-

Stalking somebody. A bandit, he realised. _Murderer. Thief._

_Take them._

There was something clinical and impassive in the thought. Not anger, just a cold certainty that the man running through the undergrowth was _bad, wicked, deserves this_ , and a simple determination to punish them. It was terrifying, and as the Enderman finally stepped out into the man’s path and he skidded to a halt, head tipped back to stare up at it, eyes huge with fear and mouth stretching open to scream, Gavin wrenched himself free from the memory and rushed back further-

_Further_ -

An older time.

So long ago that the Wild didn’t feel like the Wild, no constant tingle of magic, no overgrown plants and trees. Just a regular forest, filled with the gentle trill of cicadas and birdsong. Something about it felt hypnotically tranquil - after a moment, he realised it was because the usual binding command of the King was not present. There was no crown, no control of the mobs. They were simply free.

He looked around, and realised he was outside the enormous temple that he, Michael and Ray had been in before. It looked slightly different - newer, shinier, without the wear and tear of thousands of years behind it. There were no statues leading up its steps, but the Endermen themselves lingered in the space around it. When the Wild wasn’t dark and overgrown, they seemed less intimidating somehow - more like gentle beasts, flitting about between the shadows, as natural a part of their surroundings as the birds or butterflies.

He could sense, just being in their minds, what existence they led. They were creatures of the jungle, guarding the tower - a tower that had been there since time began, part of the very formation of the earth, the only source of true magic in this realm. He knew that people came, now and then, having heard whispers and legends of its ability to imbue them with magical powers. Powers that - he could tell, with the knowledge of the Endermen - were always linked to what those individuals thought they needed. That was how the tower worked, though the Endermen had vague memories of things going wrong, twists and catches and humans never truly knowing what they wanted. Not understanding _power_.

He dimly sensed memories of those who had come before. Some, the Endermen could see had pure hearts, and they let them through. Others, who they could sense had darkness in their souls and desired power for their own ends, they turned away. Killed, or chased out of the forest.

_Midas_ , Gavin thought, trying to prompt any remembrance of him - the moment he recalled the name, he felt himself hurtling towards the right memory, the familiarity of it echoing through all the Endermen. Oh, they knew Midas - they knew him well.

He was in the temple again. The Endermen stood around the contraption that hid the tower - one final trial. A boy stumbled into the chamber and froze upon noticing them, inching forward. He was young - had barely passed out of youth into adulthood - a scrawny little thing with wary eyes and a hesitance in his bearing. He wore ragged scraps of clothes, but there was determination in the way he stepped forward, gaining confidence when the Endermen merely watched him without moving.

They could see into his heart. There was nothing but desperate hunger there. Poor Midas, starving Midas - he’d battled much to get here, travelled all the way from the desert. He knew pain, and poverty, and abandonment, and Gavin ached suddenly, understanding the fierceness in the way his eyes fixed on the doors behind which the tower stood. The need to finally _have_ something - _control_ \- after life and circumstance had left him wanting for so long.

There was no malice in his heart, so the Endermen let him be. It took him some time to figure out the device, but he was patient, and when the doors opened and the shining glory of the tower was revealed, Gavin could only wonder how he’d ever thought those painted stones might be the real thing. The tower gleamed so brightly, even in the shadowy darkness of the temple, that it felt like staring at the surface of the sun. That overwhelming sensation of _magic_ emanated from it, but it was not unpleasant or unsettling - rather, it felt like a comfort, like finally coming to a fireplace after being out in the cold too long. Like a sip of cool water after walking parched under the sun for hours.

He saw Midas walk forward, and as the tower shone brighter and he stretched his hand out to touch it, the memory flickered and faded suddenly, overwhelmed with magic. He caught only snatches. Gold - lots of it, spilling out from thin dark hands. Trees, flowers, the stone walls of buildings, even birds and rabbits slowly being engulfed by the shining metal. _I’ll never be poor again._

Gavin landed abruptly in another memory. This time, some darker unease had settled over the Endermen, a knowledge that somewhere out in their land, things were not well. He saw a group of people venture to the Wild, discussing something amongst themselves.

“He’s gone mad-”

“Too powerful-”

“The gold has made him sick-”

“Destroying people, destroying lives-”

“For the good of the land, we need to get rid of him.”

They stopped before the Endermen, a band of a dozen people, all strong in the Endermen’s memory as those who had ventured to the tower before, and received their own gifts. Some young, some much older - all of them with a funny aura about them. Storms in their eyes, or fire, or ice.

“There’s only one way to be sure,” a small, soft-eyed girl with a gentle voice said, stepping forward. She was directly addressing the Enderman whose mind Gavin was in, and a stirring of understanding rose in its chest. He knew her power - she could communicate with animals - there was an earnestness in her eyes as she reached out to the Enderman, staring up at it as though it could understand. “We need him to leave this world. If we kill him his power might go out of control - it’s happened before, with others. So we need to trap him somewhere he can’t escape from. Please, help us. When you teleport… there’s an in-between space, there must be. Somewhere we can leave him stranded.”

Normally, Gavin could tell the Endermen were not particularly sentient - they had emotions, but basic ones. Mostly they operated on some unwavering sense of duty.

But now - maybe because of her gift, maybe because these people all had the same magic in them as the Endermen and the tower did - they understood, and it wasn’t long before the dark beasts turned to each other and came to some mutual understanding. Twelve of them reached into their chests and drew out their pearls, offering them up to the woman-

The memory faded there, and came back in flickering bits and pieces.

Fire. Burning the pearls into Eyes of Ender. The Endermen helping them construct the portal - the memories blanked out when they teleported, but whatever world they passed through, they took some rock-like material from it and used it to build. They worked hard, alongside the gifted.

Then came Midas - lured back to the Wild by some trickery, some claim that the tower was under threat and everyone’s help was needed to fix it. He was much older, now, and though he had filled out and grown a beard, there was still something drawn about his face. Something tired and untrusting. He brought with him an army of warriors clad in golden armour, and when he realised he’d been fooled, a terrible battle ensued.

The Endermen did not fight, just stood aside. There were not many memories of the battle, just a knowledge that one after the other, the gifted fell - turned to statues of gold, as streams of shining ore spread across the ground, killing at a touch.

It was one of the women, gifted with mighty strength and speed, who finally charged Midas and tackled him into the open portal some distance behind him. Her body turned to shimmering gold in his arms even as both of them fell away and vanished. His soldiers were crumbling under the others’ powers, and as soon as their leader vanished, the Endermen stepped forward and removed the eyes from the portal. It closed, sealed shut, and the memory faded alongside the darkness in the centre.

The next memory that stood out was back in the temple. Only five of the gifted remained, standing around the tower alongside the Endermen.

“It’s stuck here,” one of the men was saying. He’d climbed into the alcove and was circling the tower slowly. “Rooted to the earth - how can we get rid of it?”

“Doing that may undo our powers,” another bookish man warned. He was bleeding heavily from a wound in his side, and another woman had her hand pressed to it, glowing gently white as she healed it.

“We need to,” the tiny, soft-voiced girl said slowly. “We can’t risk someone else like that appearing. Our own gifts don’t matter if the whole world is under threat. If one person can turn bad after receiving a gift, others might too. It’s too much to risk. To stop this happening again, it’s worth the sacrifice.”

She looked around at the others, meeting their eyes - they all nodded, slowly.

Gavin felt something stir within the Endermen. They’d understood this, too, and amongst themselves they communicated wordlessly - simple thoughts. _The tower cannot be destroyed. It is the root and life of this entire earth. It keeps the kingdom bound together. We cannot get rid of it._

_But the magic - the magic can be contained._

A decision was made. The dark beings clustered together, moving towards the tower, and the humans backed off nervously.

“Are they protecting it from us?” the fifth called out, a woman who was clearly the fiercest warrior of the lot, who the Endermen recalled had taken out more soldiers of Midas’ army than any of the others.

“I think they’re going to help us,” the young woman murmured back, her eyes fixed on the Endermen.

Five stepped forward. Each grasped a piece of the tower. In their minds was a resolute knowledge of what the consequence of their actions would be, but each also understood this to be the best choice. With a flaring flash of light, they tore the tower apart, teleporting away each with one block in their grip.

Immediately, the land was torn.

The sky went dark. The ground trembled under them, violent tremors like the very earth was being ripped apart. And the Endermen, the Endermen could sense what was going on. The tower had held the land together, was the heart that united the entire world. Now that it was separate, so was the world - he felt the Alps freeze over, the Stoneworld grow barren and cold, the desert dry up. Around them, the trees of the Wild grew strong and tall, even more plants springing up until the place was a thick woodland. Not quite as twisted and monstrous as it was now, but definitely a distinct biome compared to the other kingdoms.

Each block of the tower thrummed strongly with magic. In the temple’s chamber, glowing with golden light, the gifted watched in horror, unsure what’d happened.

But the Endermen weren’t quite finished.

As though the tower was merely putty in their hands, each began to shape the piece they were holding - stretching the metal easily as dough, moulding it into distinct shapes.

Five crowns.

Gavin could only watch, transfixed, as the Endermen stepped forward. They had no voices, couldn’t communicate, but he could sense in their minds as each chose their king.

The highest block in the tower, the one at the very top, contained the gift of the Sight. It went to the man who’d moved to try and dismantle it first. His own gift had vanished when the tower was torn apart, but the power of this one slipped into him as easily as if he was changing clothes.

To the bookish fellow, the one who had helped the most with the plans to build the portal, was given the gift of redstone. To the warrior, the Alpine strength. To the one who’d had healing powers, the gift of life from the Desert crown.

And to the small girl who’d communicated with the Endermen - the black crown, the crown of the Wild, or the Woodlands, as they were known in this history. As the base of the tower, the part that had been rooted into the earth, it held the biggest responsibility, for the Endermen themselves were bound to it just as they’d used to be bound to the tower.

_Balance must be kept_ , the Endermen thought - somehow, in the newness and potency of this magic, the kings and queens understood. _The tower is one, as you must be. Bind yourselves now, with the blood of the five kingdoms_.

Without hesitation, the Alpine warrior drew her knife and sliced across both palms. The others followed swiftly and formed a circle, clasping each other’s hands tightly. The magic surged and coursed through them, and Gavin knew that when they reached the kingdoms, the magic inherent in the crowns would have the people know them as their rulers.

The memory faded then, and he hurtled through time for a while, watching years pass. The rulers remained close, working together. The kingdoms prospered, soon recovering from the shock of how the land had split. There was peace.

But then, as the kings and queens passed and others inherited-

The bond between them grew faint, and weak. The newer generations grew apart, grew selfish, refused to use their powers to help those outside their kingdoms unless it was for a high price. Slowly, the peace of previous years vanished, just as the story of the original rulers faded into history, forgotten - people soon came to believe the land had always been like this, the crowns always there, the royal families the only ones with the right to rule. Occasionally there were coups or revolts, and the crowns would fall into new hands - but they were few and far between, happening hundreds of years apart.

And then, of course, there was the Wild kingdom. Gavin thought of the portal and jolted as he fell into a new memory.

The Woodlands were a prospering kingdom, filled with rich natural resources as well as the assistance of the mobs in building and working. The people were wealthy and happy, living here in this lush garden, and the Woodlands’ scientists were some of the finest in the land.

It was when exploring some of the deeper areas of the forest that adventurers happened upon the old temple, and found a golden tower that Gavin, through the Endermen, knew had been erected in memory of the original by the old kings. They’d left stories and paintings to tell their history - but over time these had rotted, or grown old, and the Wild were left merely with bits and pieces. Clues to patch together. They took them, and began to guess, and what they came up with was flawed.

They wanted the tower. They wanted Midas. They didn’t realise the crowns _were_ the tower -- believed if they had it, they too would be able to turn things into gold. Believed the tower was hidden through the portal. Their greed made them careless, heedless of consequences.

They reconstructed the instructions to create the portal that the original Stone king had left. They sacrificed prisoners from each kingdom on the steps of the portal before putting the Ender Eyes in. The Endermen watched, a burning hatred and disapproval deep in their hearts, but bound by the Wild crown-

At least until the portal opened.

The magic of their homeworld flooded through, unleashed at last. The End, where they travelled between teleports - rich with magic and after all this time, pent up and ready to be released. The magic broke them free, and their anger unleashed, they turned on them.

The portal, remaining open, had more and more magic pumping through. The Endermen were wild now, wild and free, and their anger and viciousness was terrifying. No longer was it the calculated calmness of their previous justice enacted against those with darkness in their hearts, but the pent up disgust of hundreds of years watching the kingdoms fall apart was unleashed now upon the Wild kingdom. As the magic sent the trees and plants growing madly, the Endermen killed, and destroyed, with a vicious glee that made Gavin feel sick. It was terrifying to behold - to take _part_ in, as he felt everything they felt, lived the memories through their eyes-

It was starting to hurt.

He realised, dimly, that there was pain _somewhere_. He didn’t feel like he was in his body, so he couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was a steadily building agony. He withdrew from that violent memory and raced through hundreds more years into the future. King after king flashed past his eyes, vagabonds and bandits who picked up the crown, rarely holding it longer than a few years.

_My family,_ he realised. He tried to stop and pinpoint something familiar. Something, _anything_ , that might give him a clue who they had been, but the pain made it hard to focus, and there were so _many_ -

“Gavin.”

Face after face passed by in flashes. He desperately struggled to tell how long ago they’d ruled, if they fit the time period he was looking for-

“Gavin!”

Everything hurt; he felt dizzy and unfocused, lost again-

“Gavin - Gavin!”

Suddenly, warm hands were clasping his shoulders, and he realised with a jolt that he was back in his own body. It felt like waking from a dream, and suddenly he was disoriented. He realised he was lying on a stone floor. Everything was dark - the Endermen were looming above him, their dark shadows cast over him-

And Michael’s concerned face, close to his where the other man was crouched over him. For a moment, Gavin couldn’t remember who he was, _where_ he was, what was happening. What time it was, or whose mind he was in, or what was happening. If they were safe.

But Michael - he knew _Michael,_  knew he meant safety and stability and protection, and he surged forward and clung to him with shaking hands. The other man tugged him close, his warm, strong arms wrapping around Gavin and clutching him tightly to his chest, one hand stroking soothingly down his back as he slowly came back to himself.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, are you feeling okay now?”

Gavin jumped violently at the sudden voice. He twisted around where he’d been sitting on a makeshift log bench in a small patch of forest within their walled encampment, watching the mobs slowly work on building a new wall for the castle.

The sun was setting. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but he’d been in the Endermen’s memories for hours.

It was Ray who was standing behind him, and though Gavin relaxed, hand falling away from his knife as he realised it wasn’t a threat, he couldn’t help being rather surprised to see the other man slipping out of the shadows of the trees.

“You shouldn’t wander around out here,” he replied.

Ray raised an eyebrow as he moved closer. He was carrying a redstone torch, and he jammed it into the ground in front of them as he took a seat next to Gavin.

“Why not?” he asked. “Your mobs won’t hurt me.”

Gavin’s lips twisted.

“The mobs were created by the tower’s magic,” he murmured. “Within the area of the temple, it had some small effects. The creepers had always been here. Anyone who died within its radius came back as a draugr or zombie. It made the spiders grow big. They ended up under the jurisdiction of the Wild crown… when the land was torn apart, even more sprang up. But the Wither… those aren’t from here. Those aren’t under my control.”

Ray stared at him a moment, then shrugged.

“We’re in the castle grounds,” he pointed out. “I can take care of myself, too.”

“Still,” Gavin said, but fell silent, watching the mobs work. The Endermen were helping to lift up enormous chunks of stone, the draugr assisting with the smaller rocks and buckets of mud they packed between to seal the gaps and keep everything together. It was uncomfortable to see the beasts, in the sinking sun. He was worried that with the portal still open, the magic was seeping through and the Endermen might break free of the crown’s control again.

It was probably impossible. The place was already so saturated with magic that he thought by now the crown had regained control and would keep it. Still - it was uncomfortable to have to fear it, especially since he wasn’t sure what counted as enough of a crime, enough of _guilt_ , for them to attack.

He knew they wanted Ryan.

He could still feel it in their minds whenever they looked at him. But he wasn’t sure about anyone else, or even himself - if what he’d done to get this crown was enough for him to be judged guilty as well.

Ray was watching him in concern. After returning, Gavin had told the others everything he’d learned. Now Ryan was off looking through the journal again for clues on how to take the eyes out of the portal and dismantle it entirely. They still weren’t sure who had opened it again between the Wild being destroyed and the first beast appearing. Whenever that had happened, the Endermen apparently hadn’t seen it.

The others were out taking turns patrolling for the skeletons, and Geoff was busy using the Sight to update all the other kingdoms. Gavin had gone to monitor his mobs, but had gotten distracted by his own thoughts along the way.

It was odd for Ray to be here looking for him. But nice, somehow, not to be alone. Even his own friends were off stockpiling resources in case the Wither managed to trap them in here.

“I’m okay,” Gavin said finally, remembering Ray’s original question. “I felt weird for a bit after doing that, but it’s gone now. Nothing hurts. What’s up? Did you need something?”

“No,” Ray replied, slowly. “I just came to check on you.”

“Oh.” Gavin blinked a few times. He hadn’t expected that, but it made something warm swell in his chest. “That’s… that’s really nice of you.”

There was an awkward silence before he grinned at Ray. The other man smiled back. It was strange being alone with him, but after a moment Gavin swallowed.

“Actually,” he said, “There was something I wanted to ask you about. My scarf could only have been made by the Wild king, so my parents must’ve been involved with them somehow. It would’ve been about twenty five years ago. Michael told me you’d know about the history of the Wild leadership because the other kings would always feel the crown change hands.”

Ray nodded, slowly.

“Yeah - yeah, I remember learning about all that. We don’t know names, but the general gist of when the Wild rulers died all got recorded. The Plains rulers used the Sight to spy and make contact, too. But the Wild rulers rarely wanted to ally, and when they did, those agreements never ended up working out. Usually it resulted in the other kingdoms being double crossed and turned on, and with the mobs in the Wild leader’s hands, no one wanted to start a fight.”

“So twenty five years ago, who was in charge?” Gavin asked eagerly.

Ray gave a thoughtful hum.

“There’ve been…. ten rulers? In the last twenty five years. I think. You’re the eleventh. Before that there were loads, of course. I think the longest reign was just over four years. The rest ranged from a couple of years to a couple of _weeks_. I’ve felt two change hands since I inherited, including the last guy.”

“What killed them?” Gavin asked.

“Usually other bandits, other people in the Wild. Or accidents - falling down cliffs, drowning… that sort of thing. Eating something poisonous. Now, twenty five years ago… who was the king? Shit, I need to write it down, hang on.”

He grabbed a stick and started scratching in the dirt, counting back the kings, occasionally pausing to think. Gavin leaned over his shoulder, watching intently, and after a moment Ray gave an awkward laugh.

“Sorry - it’s been a while since I brushed up on history.”

“No, take your time!” Gavin assured him. Ray gave a small smile, seeming oddly flustered, but got back to work, clearly wracking his brains trying to remember things.

Eventually he had a list scribbled down, and sat back.

“Okay,” he said. “Assuming I’m remembering correctly, there were a couple of rulers in that time period who it could be. There was a queen who reigned for two years. She was the leader of a group of bandits when she first took the crown, and she used the mobs as weapons. She’d rob people in the Stoneworld, actively attack anyone who got near the forest - real bad sort.

“After a while, she was killed by another person in her same gang, and a new king took over. He wasn’t as aggressive as her, but it seemed like it was a time of big civil war between their group of bandits - they were a big gang, I’m talking over a hundred people, probably, all living in the Wild. There’s never been as big a group since. He was using the mobs in that conflict rather than to attack outsiders. He ruled for eight months, then another random took over. I think the gang mostly killed itself out. The next guy, we know hardly anything about. He didn’t last very long and never did much. The mobs mostly ran free and kept drifting into the Stoneworld.”

“That big conflict,” Gavin said, thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why my parents took me out of the Wild and left me in the Plains.”

“Maybe,” Ray agreed. “It seems like that would’ve been going on at the time.”

Gavin mulled over this for a time. In his vivid imagination, he could practically see it - that enormous group of vagabonds, tearing themselves apart - loyalty to their queen motivating some, others supporting the man who’d taken the crown after her. The mobs being used as weapons. A war waged within the trees and shadows.

And in the midst of it all… someone fleeing with a baby. Who had he been born to? Who’d given him the shawl - the queen, or the king? Had she been his mother - was that possible? Or was the next man Gavin’s father? Or neither - had his parents just been friends of one or the other of them?

He shook himself, and turned to Ray, reaching out and pressing his arm.

“Thank you,” he said. “That’s more than I ever knew before. There’s so many leads I could take from here… mostly I need to know more about these gangs. Where in the Wild were they situated?”

“That I have no idea about,” Ray said. “Geoff might know more. It was his ancestors who watched what happened through the Sight.”

Gavin pulled a face, his stomach sinking.

“Somehow, I don’t think asking him would go down very well,” he muttered. Ray’s brow furrowed.

“I think he’d help, if you asked,” he said. “Or if you asked Jack.”

Gavin shook his head.

“My parents, my investigation… it was a big reason we started falling apart during the games,” he explained. “He never really helped me find them, even though he kept promising he would. I know he was busy with his duties as King, with all the political drama happening. Maybe I was selfish for trying to push him to help me with my problems when all that was going on. But he… he didn’t seem to understand just how much I _need_ this. How much I…”

He trailed off. He’d never known his parents, so the thought of their deaths had never really upset him. Mostly he’d just needed to know for his own peace of mind.

But it had been such a trying few weeks, and he was exhausted and emotionally wrung out. The faces of the rulers that’d flashed before his eyes today, in the Endermen’s memories, had suddenly had him seeing his parents as individual _people_. People with names and faces and stories. He felt acutely more connected to them, and suddenly terribly upset at the thought that they were almost certainly dead. That they’d probably died trying to get him safely away from the conflict - that it hadn’t been an abandonment, but a _rescue_.

His upset must’ve shown on his face, because Ray shifted, then suddenly moved towards him on the seat and put an arm around his shoulders. Gavin stiffened - Ray was staring straight ahead, and he seemed quite awkward. From what Gavin could tell, he didn’t do things like this much. Wasn’t really the touchy sort.

“Hey,” Ray said, voice stilted, but sincere. “We’ll find out what happened. I know that sort of thing is important. I… I was really close to my parents. They died very suddenly, it was… really, _really_ hard.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s just so… isolating, to lose people like that. Words can’t describe how much it fucking hurts. I was lucky I had Michael there to support me. That helped.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Gavin said softly. “I remember hearing about it in court.”

Ray shrugged. He still seemed awkward, and Gavin leaned into his shoulder, bumping against him and giving a small smile.

“But I’m glad you and Michael made up,” he said, quietly, and Ray gave a little smile back.

“Me too,” he agreed, and sighed. “I think… for so long I’ve been holding onto this anger. Resentment, I guess, because I was disappointed that he didn’t feel the same way. But maybe if I let go of it… if we try to just be friends and _see_ each other again… if his mind doesn’t change, mine might.”

Gavin bit his lip. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what was going to happen with Michael and Ray - if Michael would fall in love with his friend, if his feelings might develop - but to hear Ray talk so suddenly about moving on was a bit startling. He wasn’t sure what Michael would think about that.

“Don’t give up just yet,” he replied, and Ray shrugged.

“What about you? Have you given up on Jack and Geoff?”

Gavin looked away.

He supposed he had, in a way, resigned himself to the fact that they would never be together the way he’d once hoped. For him, moving on had involved not thinking about it and focusing on building his kingdom. But _moving on_ in terms of finding someone _else_? That, he hadn’t given thought to. He wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“It can hurt less not to get your hopes up, right?” Ray continued after a moment, when Gavin stayed silent. “Especially because things are changing with all of us.” He paused, considering, and then added, “Michael has a crush on you.”

“ _What_?” Gavin demanded, the words sending a jolt through him - especially because Ray said it so casually.

Ray shrugged.

“Silly word, isn’t it?” he said. “ _Crush_. Makes it sound like we’re schoolchildren. Can’t you see it? The way he looks at you and treats you. It’s different to how he treats everyone else.”

Gavin could only stare at him, mouth literally hanging open. The words themselves didn’t surprise him so much as the fact that _Ray_ was saying them, and so calmly. He couldn’t help but wonder if the other man was upset or angry about this, given how devoted he was to Michael - but after a moment Ray turned to look at him and gave a little laugh.

“I mean, I can see why he would,” he said - Gavin stared at him, agog, and he laughed again. “Don’t look so fucking surprised. You’re funny, and smart, and way different from the sort of people you find in the Alps. You’re probably not like anyone he’s ever met before. And you don’t treat him like a king - he likes that, even if I don’t. I have my reasons - after I inherited so young and so suddenly, it was a pretty hard process ensuring my kingdom respected me. Plus you get on so well with the Plains soldiers, it’s no wonder you know how to get along with him. He likes you a lot,” he repeated, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he falls for you, not me.”

“Ray…” Gavin trailed off, weakly. It wasn’t often that he had no idea what to say. Ray’s voice was so matter-of-fact that he couldn’t for the life of him tell why he was saying all this - if he really didn’t care.

“I’m not mad about it,” Ray said, shrugging. “Just stating what I can see.”

“Oh,” Gavin replied.

It wasn’t a startling revelation by any means. He hadn’t failed to notice the way Michael acted around him - how attentive the other man was. How much they enjoyed each other’s company. And he did like Michael a lot, he just… wasn’t quite sure how to feel about all this.

“I don’t know what I like any more,” he murmured. “What I want. Ryan and I, we… last time, we connected, even if I thought he was only faking it. Seeing him here lately has been strange. I wish things weren’t ruined between us because we… we _do_ understand each other. I’ve never felt that with anyone else before, not like I do with him.” He glanced nervously at Ray, wondering if he was being too open with someone he didn’t quite know well enough, but Ray just stared back at him, oddly understanding. “But then there’s Jack, and Geoff, and all that happened with them… and now Michael, too!”

He threw his hands up, his chest suddenly tight.

“It’s so confusing,” he cried. And then, desperately, “What about you? Still just Michael?”

Something strained passed across Ray’s face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was just Michael for so long that I’m not sure who else I might… I could _possibly_ … I guess I never really thought about it.”

“Maybe you should try with someone else,” Gavin suggested, without really thinking about it. “Just to see. If it’s always just been Michael… you could keep your mind open. Just as a _what if_.”

“Maybe,” Ray agreed.

There was a moment of contemplative silence.

“So,” Ray said. “You wanna make out now?”

Gavin nearly choked on his own spit. He spent a moment coughing and trying to catch his breath, and heard Ray laugh next to him - a nervous sort of chuckle - when he finally recovered himself he could only stare at the other man, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

“ _What_?” he gasped, and though Ray shrugged nonchalantly, Gavin could see his hands twisting together in his lap.

“For fun,” he said. “As a test. Like you said, try it out with someone else - see what happens. I mean, it’s not risky since there’s nothing between _us_.”

“Then what would it be testing?” Gavin demanded.

“If it feels wrong,” Ray replied, immediately, “To be kissing someone other than Jack, Geoff… Michael.”

Gavin took this in. His stomach was twisting, oddly nervous, and after a moment he gave a strained laugh as well.

“Fucking gods, Ray,” he said, shaking his head. “Is this your idea of science?”

“Look, I’m just saying!” Ray said, raising his hands defensively. “It’s practically _your_ idea. I just thought it might… help, I dunno. Like I said. It’s easier with you. We barely know each other.”

“Have you kissed anyone other than Michael before?” Gavin asked, and knew the answer as soon as Ray looked away, something faintly embarrassed on his face.

“No,” he admitted. Gavin bit his lip, thoughtfully.

He _wanted_ to help Ray. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told the other man he thought it might be good for him to investigate whether he might be interested in someone else. And honestly, now that Ray had brought it up, he kind of wanted to know just how closely he himself was still attached to Jack and Geoff - if he really had managed to move on the way he’d been trying to.

“Not even gonna ask me out, first?” he joked, finally, and Ray gave a relieved laugh.

“Sorry, where are my manners?”

He held out his hands, and slowly a flower sprouted out of his cupped palms. Gavin’s eyes widened as he leaned forward to look - he’d never really seen Ray’s power in action, and there was something magical about the sight of the ethereal, blue flower that grew. It was a delicate, beautiful thing, with thin dark veins in its pale petals and a pearly shimmer across its surface.

“That’s incredible,” Gavin breathed. Ray gave a small smile, and suddenly more flowers sprouted - their little stems weaving together to form a loop. Gavin was confused, a little unsure what was happening, but when the flowers finished their odd dance in Ray’s hands and he lifted it up, he realised what’d happened. It was a flower crown, the stems securely twisted around one another to form a circle.

“Romantic enough for you?” Ray joked, and although Gavin laughed, he couldn’t help the way his face flushed when Ray leaned forward and gently laid the crown over his head. It was an unexpected gesture, oddly sweet and quite unlike anything anyone had done for him before.

“I… thank you?”

“Blue suits you,” Ray murmured, almost absentmindedly, as he brushed a strand of Gavin’s hair out of his eyes. Gavin fought not to flinch, his eyes widening as he suddenly realised just how close Ray’s face was to his. “That’s nicer than those thorns on your crown. That looked like it hurt.”

“The crown had a base, so the thorns weren’t actually digging into me,” Gavin replied, a bit flustered. He wasn’t sure where to look, because Ray was still leaning in close. Meeting his eyes felt a bit too intense. “But my hair sometimes gets tangled in it.”

Ray laughed. He had a nice laugh. Gavin had never really noticed that before.

He was expecting it, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise when Ray cupped his cheek and tentatively leaned in. The other man paused just before their lips touched, leaving it up to Gavin to close the gap between them.

He did.

It was strange. He’d kissed people before, in his youth - a childhood crush at the circus, another boy who’d also worked with the acrobats - the occasional man or woman at a tavern back when he was a thief. If they paid for a room, he got a roof over his head for the night out of things too. The kiss with Ryan had been different - something more behind it, but the knowledge that he was doing it for a _purpose_ ever-present in the back of his mind.

This - this was something completely different. Too much planning behind it, yet still somehow so oddly spontaneous. It was gentle at first, little more than a soft press of lips - but after a moment, Gavin found himself being the one to lean in, his hand coming to rest on Ray’s hip, angling his head to push in deeper. The other man kissed back - a little awkwardly, his inexperience clear, letting Gavin take the lead.

He felt the crown bond surge warm in his chest, building up and flooding his entire body with an electric tingle. He was used to magic, had been since he started living here in the Wild, yet somehow the sensation made him shiver, now. There was something different about it, something that made him feel like he and Ray weren’t just touching physically but impressing upon each other’s minds as well. It should’ve been terrifying, letting someone in so close, but there was a comfortable ease to it, like holding hands or slipping into a warm bath.

When they pulled apart, his face felt hot and his chest was tight. He couldn’t meet Ray’s eyes - suddenly worried that the other man could sense how his heart was pounding, how his whole body was still alight with tingles.

And sure, this had been a fun little experiment, but the problem was-

He did feel something.

He hadn’t expected to - especially because he barely knew Ray. He’d kissed people for fun before, and it had never been like _this_. He couldn’t tell if it was the bond, or magic, or something more. But it was _there_ , and suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He did like Ray a lot, even if he didn’t know him well. They were similar, in a lot of ways. He hadn’t realised it until after the games - after the storm, and his conversation with the other man, when he realised how Ray had taken his words to heart.

And tonight - the flower crown, the gentle touches - it had been a while since someone treated him like that.

He heard Ray clear his throat, and finally dared to look up. He was scared to say anything, since everything felt like it’d just gotten even more complicated. But Ray looked confused too, when their eyes met.

“So I feel like we just created more problems than we solved,” he said, and Gavin scoffed out a laugh and looked away.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Hey,” Ray said. He touched Gavin’s arm, and when he looked up, Ray pointed at his chest. “Michael told me about this… this bond thing, and how he felt something with you and Ryan earlier. Said it was magic. That the _Wild_ is magic.”

“He tell you all of it?” Gavin asked.

“What do you mean, all of it?”

“Did he tell you,” Gavin asked nervously, “That I’m a witch?”

Ray stared at him for a moment, and Gavin rather hysterically wondered why the _fuck_ he’d just decided to say that. But before he had time to panic, Ray just shrugged.

“No, but that’s interesting. I guess that’s another lead on who your parents might be, right?”

Dear gods. Was there nothing Ray wouldn’t take in stride? After Ryan’s reactions to this, after his fear of telling Geoff - it was such a relief for someone to be so easily accepting that it was nearly overwhelming. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he flung himself forward and hugged Ray, nearly knocking him off the bench.

Ray made a startled noise as Gavin’s arms were suddenly wrapped around him.

“Hey,” he said, and rather awkwardly hugged him back. “Okay. Um. You okay?”

Gavin nodded, his face buried against the other man’s shoulder. He felt Ray relax under him, hugging him back for a moment - then, to his surprise, the other man leaned down and pressed another kiss to the top of his head; an oddly affectionate gesture.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but Ray just rubbed a hand over his back.

“No, it’s fine. I kinda figured things have been shitty with how Geoff and Ryan are acting. But you always have options, Gav. Hell - you showed me that. Don’t cling to the past - but don’t push people away if you don’t have to. I know that probably sounds fucking hypocritical coming from me, but if anything I’ve made too many mistakes by doing that myself. Let yourself move on, just - not at the expense of the people you care about.”

He pushed Gavin back a little, staring into his eyes.

“I think spending time working together like this… it might be good,” he said. “But you and Geoff and Jack should talk. It worked for Michael and I, once we finally got our shit together.”

“Geoff doesn’t want to,” Gavin said softly, and Ray sighed.

“Yeah, well. He’s the one who’s missing out, if those making out skills you just showed me are anything to go by.”

Gavin gave a startled laugh. Ray grinned back, chuckling as well, and any awkwardness or tension that might’ve lingered was broken. Even if he felt more lost than ever - he felt better, too, reassured by Ray’s own change in attitude that it was possible to just let things be, let them figure themselves out. Even wait and see what new possibilities might come up. And for now, at least, it was starting to look like he had more friends on his side than he’d imagined, especially among the other kings.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t overtax yourself,” Jack warned, as he entered the room he was sharing with Geoff.

The Plains king was sitting cross-legged on the bed. His eyes were shut, but he’d just returned to his own body, and he looked up at Jack and gave a tired smile.

“I won’t,” he replied. “But we can’t all just vanish into the Wild and not keep our kingdom updated on what’s going on. At least Ryan got the chance to go back to his city and make sure everything was running smoothly.”

“Hey, Lindsay kept things going for six months while we were dealing with Nutt. What’s another few weeks?”

“Good point,” Geoff said, “At this rate she’s practically the one running the place.”

Jack laughed, and sat down next to Geoff, reaching out to kiss him. Geoff leaned against his shoulder and gave a tired sigh.

“No sign of the Wither?”

“No. They haven’t come near the castle. One of Gavin’s people… Blaine, I think? Took over the patrol.” He let out a little huff. “It’s strange, not knowing anything about these Wild folk when he’s so _close_ to them. I tried to talk to them, but they’re… wary, especially of royalty. I know Gavin told them to trust us, but they don’t, not really. Not except Dan. You gotta wonder what the two of them said about us.”

“That we’re evil tyrants who wouldn’t help Gavin find mummy and daddy,” Geoff murmured, but there was no real bite in it, so Jack didn’t bother to chastise him. It sounded more like Geoff was saying it just for the sake of saying it, and if Jack didn’t react, he knew the other man would soon tire of his childishness.

“Either way, it’s odd. Time was, _we_ were the ones he was closest to. Now it feels like we know barely anything about him…” he trailed off, swallowing the lump that’d suddenly risen in his throat. “What happened when you two were in the forest together?”

Geoff stiffened, pulling away from Jack’s side.

“Nothing,” he replied, too quickly.

“Geoff,” Jack pressed. “You were alone together for hours. I know you helped him - he wasn’t in a very good state after sending those mobs through the portal. Thank you.”

“Why are _you_ thanking me?” Geoff scoffed.

Jack didn’t rise to the mockery in his tone.

“Because I care about Gavin,” he replied, “And I’m glad you helped him. I knew you wouldn’t ever abandon him.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t so sure,” Geoff grumbled, and a chill ran down Jack’s spine.

“Wait,” he said sharply. “He thought you’d leave him behind?”

Geoff’s face twisted for a moment before shuttering over in a sneer, and Jack knew the thought was just as upsetting for him.

"Of course,” Geoff snapped. “He hates me, remember? Thinks the worst of me. Don’t worry, though, he knows _you_ still love him.”

“What did he say?” Jack’s heart was pounding - anger, hope, relief, _uncertainty_ \- he didn’t know what to feel.

“He got all upset,” Geoff said, and gave another shrug. “Said he didn’t want to break us up, so he wouldn’t do anything with you since he knew I wouldn’t like it. Don’t pull that face, Jack,” he added - Jack had no idea what _face_ he was referring to, since he thought he was taking this quite calmly - “I know you want to get back together with him. You’ve never hid that. You want it so fucking bad, and now I’m the villain holding us back! Guess I really am the bad guy here. The one standing in the way of a happy fucking ending.”

“You’re not the villain,” Jack replied. His voice sounded shaky and soft, and his chest was tight. Before the portal, and the Wither, and everyone splitting apart… he’d been so upset by the prospect of Gavin wanting to move on. But Geoff wasn’t mentioning any of that - only that he _himself_ didn’t want this. Clearly Gavin hadn’t said anything to him about not wanting them any more, or Geoff surely would’ve brought it up. “But Geoff… can’t you _try_ and see his side of things? I know he sees yours.”

Geoff looked away, and quite suddenly Jack wondered if he _had_ thought about it already. If he’d tried. If he was just being stubborn now, or if he really _didn’t_ want this-

Or if he was just as lost and confused as Jack felt, sometimes.

“You can hold onto things,” he advised. “Or you can move on. He’s the same person underneath. I think he really does want to talk to us about all this, Geoff, to _work things out_. We can’t keep pushing him away, not Gavin. Geoff, we used to love him… you’ve had him in the bond for eight months, but I’ve had nothing. Please, Geoff, can’t you just _try-”_

“Gods, you always _do_ this,” Geoff snarled suddenly. He hadn’t looked at Jack once, even as his voice grew more pleading, and Jack fell silent at the sudden venom in his voice. Geoff had shifted further across the bed. His fists were clenched, trembling in his lap. “You’re like a fucking walking fortune cookie. You just - spout this _shit_ like it’s all so _easy_. It’s not. It’s _not_. Fucking hell. As for the bond - let me tell you, Jack, you sure weren’t missing much-”

Something snapped, then.

It was sudden, and quite unexpected. Jack wasn’t even angry, when in an instant, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly he was _furious_ , the pent up frustration and pain and _loneliness_ of the last eight months rising up and pouring out unbidden.

“Fucking _hell_ , Geoff, how can you say that like you _know_ what I’ve been missing out on?” he yelled, so loudly that Geoff actually jumped a little. He rose from the bed and loomed over the other man. He didn’t think he’d ever been so mad in his life. “You don’t fucking know _what_ it’s like! Since you became king you’ve _always_ had the others - _always_. All five of you now, connected, and here I fucking am _outside_ it all. Do you have any _idea_ what that feels like? When the… the people I love are _together_ , all the time, even when physically they’re apart? It’s isolating. It’s _lonely_. And it fucking _hurts_. When the two of you were in the forest, when we all got split up… I had no idea if you were _alive_ , Geoff. If _Gavin_ was alive. Do you know how gods damned _terrified_ I was?”

Geoff stared up at him, eyes wide, and Jack threw his hands up and spun away.

“ _All_ of you,” he cried. “All of you _kings_ , with your gifts and your bond - it’s like you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be outside it all. You knew when Ryan was stabbed. You knew, the entire eight months, that Gavin was relatively okay. You could sleep through a night without worrying if… if something had happened to him, if he was hurt or hungry or cold or _anything_. You could wake up in the morning and instantly know he was okay. He was always _there_ with you, whether you wanted it or not. I _didn’t have that_ , and gods, do you know how much I wanted it? _Needed_ it? I’d cut a damn arm off, I’d give up almost _anything_ to have known he was okay. And here you are telling me I _wasn’t missing much_? I missed _eight fucking months_ with someone I love - didn’t have a single conversation with him, not a damn _thing_. So don’t you fucking tell me you know what that was like-”

He broke off. His voice was cracking every other word, wrenching out of him like sobs, and he took a moment to breathe heavily and get himself under control. He turned away, rubbing his hands over his face, furiously trying to stop himself trembling.

When he turned around, Geoff was staring at him, defensively.

“You’re right,” Geoff said, “I didn’t _want_ it. If I could have, I would have given it to you, Jack. You think this is easy? You think it’s _nice_ being connected to the crown? You think I wasn’t fucking terrified of having to put on the Wild crown too if I won, of having double of… of whatever the fuck this magic is? You and Gavin both don’t fucking understand. You might know the court, but neither of you, _neither_ of you have grown up with the pressure of royal duty on your shoulders. It’s not easy. Even now, Gavin isn’t a king like I am. He doesn’t have thirty fucking million citizens relying on him. He doesn’t have politicians and noblemen and barons and an army of men clamouring for his attention. Most of the _things_ that live in the Wild obey his every whim on just a thought. He thinks he knows what it means to be a king but not like this, not like _I_ do - when you’re under this sort of pressure, duty takes priority over _feelings_.”

It hurt to hear him so obviously upset, but at the same time, they’d been over this more than enough times in the last eight months. Jack wasn’t the one who needed to hear this - and it certainly didn’t justify continuing to push Gavin away.

“You sound,” he replied, slowly, “Just like Ryan.”

The look of shock on Geoff’s face might’ve been funny, in any other situation.

“I’m nothing like Ryan,” he snapped, but Jack just shook his head.

“Both of you keep pushing people away,” he said, frustrated and _sad._ “You’ll end up with no one left.”

He turned to leave the room, wanting to clear his head - but Geoff grabbed his arm, desperately, and pulled him back.

“Jack, wait,” he said. He sounded scared, and something guilty twisted in Jack’s stomach. He hadn’t meant it as a threat - and it hit him, suddenly, how hard it must be for Geoff to wonder if Jack would leave, pick Gavin over him. If he might lose the other person he loved, too.

The anger was gone from Geoff’s face, now, replaced by wide eyes and a look of terrible vulnerability.

“I know I’m weak,” he began, quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know _you_ get it. I just… I miss him, too, but I don’t know if this is _him_ anymore. I miss him before all this happened. I miss him before he decided to leave, before he took the crown, before I suddenly had to realise that maybe he wasn’t who we thought he was all along. For better or worse, I don’t know. And you want the three of us together, but what if it _doesn’t work_? After all, we fucked it up last time. He probably still resents me. Did you fucking hear him before he put on the crown? He blames me for everything. So yes, I had the bond these last eight months, but I also had the guilt that _I_ was the one who pushed him away. I was always worried that maybe you realised that - maybe you’d hate me too.”

“I could never hate you,” Jack began, but Geoff just shook his head.

“If I’m not angry with him,” he said, a bit pitifully, “Who’s left to blame? Because I can only think of one fucking person, and you’re looking at him.”

Jack’s heart twisted. He moved back towards Geoff and pulled him into a tight hug. The other man moved into his touch, squeezing him back tightly, as though frightened he’d leave again.

“Time was you’d find a way to blame Ryan for so much as a broken egg,” he said, and Geoff scoffed out a laugh, pressing his face into Jack’s shoulder. Jack hugged him tighter for a moment before pushing him back to look into his eyes.

“Dan said it very simply,” he said. “We didn't communicate last time. No one person is to blame for what happened. We can’t change the past, but Gavin thinking that you hate him won’t help anything. And I know you _don’t_ hate him, but it’s sure coming across that way. Swallow your pride, and he’ll swallow his. No matter what else happens, he misses us too. Even if he… he might not want us anymore, anyway.”

That last part came out in nearly a whisper, because he still couldn’t be _certain_ , not without hearing it from Gavin’s own mouth, first. And despite his words, he still couldn’t be _sure_ how it would all work, with Gavin a king now, too. And it still haunted him - _I need to move on_ \- he wondered if Gavin had said anything like that to Geoff. How him deciding he didn’t want to give this another go would make Geoff feel, or any of the others.

He clapped Geoff on the shoulder a few times.

“We need to talk to him,” he decided. “We will, as soon as we have time. And you’ll be there, right?”

Geoff rubbed a tired hand over his face and glanced longingly at a bottle of whiskey sitting on the bedside shelf. Jack gave him a warning frown, but after a moment Geoff nodded.

“I’ll be there,” he said, and sighed. “But first, I need to send a message to the Desert for Ray.”

“I won’t bother you any more, then,” Jack replied quickly. He hesitated, wanting to say something more - not sure what - but Geoff was already tilting his head back, eyes turning white as he left his body, and Jack sighed and turned away, leaving the room.

He paused in the corridor, realising he had nothing to do with himself. The others were all off using their gifts - Michael patrolling, Ryan working on his golems… Ray and Gavin doing something with the mobs, probably. And here he was, no one to advise, no battle to fight, unable to even feel how the others were going. He felt useless and helpless, and worst of all like Geoff, despite everything, still didn’t quite _understand_. That none of them could.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, how are we doing this?” Michael asked.

He was standing opposite Ryan in the throne room. Ryan had been poring over the journal, working on a way to close the portal, but when Michael came in to see what he was doing, he’d been packing up and said he’d just sent golems back to the Stoneworld to fetch some things from his lab. Until then, they were just waiting, and it seemed like the opportune time to test out the things they could do with the bond.

“I think we’ll need to stand a little closer, for one,” Ryan suggested.

Michael took a few steps towards him.

“More,” Ryan said, walking forward himself. And then, when nothing still happened, “More.”

Before long they were seriously invading each other’s personal space - they were almost chest to chest when Michael couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer.

“Fucking hell,” he scoffed, “How close are we gonna get? Shut the door, it’ll be weird if someone walks in.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but walked over and shut the door. It was a relief for it to be closed - for it to finally feel like they were alone in the stone room. For some reason, this all felt a bit like doing something sacred, forbidden - funnily intimate.

Ryan walked back over to him, coming up by his side this time, rather than face to face. That felt a bit less awkward - their shoulders brushed, but at least they weren’t staring at each other. Michael felt the bond swell a little, but nowhere near as much as it had before.

“Focus on me,” Ryan said.

“What part of you?”

“I don’t know, something important or interesting. Something that’ll make you feel something.”

For some reason, Michael thought it’d be hilarious to stare directly at Ryan’s dick. The other man noticed immediately and turned away.

“Excuse me?” he demanded. He sounded _embarrassed_ , which was fairly new.

“I don’t know why I thought that would be funny,” Michael replied. “It wasn’t funny. Maybe if someone else was in here, watching, it would’ve been. My bad.”

Ryan stared at him a moment - then, to Michael’s surprised, huffed out a laugh.

“I’m sure the fool would’ve found it hilarious,” he muttered, shaking his head, and Michael grinned, glad that he wasn’t offended. He closed his eyes and instead thought about Ryan and himself, back in the temple when the Wither came through the portal. Facing this new threat together, he’d felt as close to the other man as any of his soldiers. He felt the bond surge strong in his chest, and wondered what Ryan was thinking about.

“Okay, good,” Ryan murmured, slowly. “That’s good. We’re getting there.”

Michael gave a small smile. Unlike last time, they weren’t reaching out to each other, not yet. It was more contained, more controlled - they were pressed close together, but not immersed in one another, not yet.

“Okay,” Ryan said finally. “Trial one. What we want to test is the viability of this bond as a means of communicating. So far, it seems like the only thing possible with this is to feel the other person’s emotions. I suggest we first attempt to use this as a means of sending a distress signal even when one of us isn’t physically injured, since it seems to take a fairly life threatening wound for us to normally feel it through the bond.”

“Okay,” Michael replied. “What should I do?”

“Don’t say anything out loud, but try and imagine yourself in a situation where you want to call us for help. See if you can communicate it to me.”

Michael closed his eyes. He thought of seeing Ray fall off the edge of the slope. Thought of how it’d felt to watch him vanish - the fear. He imagined if the two of them had been standing on the edge of that precipice, hoards of Wither closing silently in around them. Panic. Anger. Fear. He imagined how Ray might look over at him, face desperate and _scared_.

Beside him, Ryan stiffened. He must be able to feel it - Michael was thinking it so hard it was nearly making him upset.

Suddenly, he felt a touch of concern emanating through the bond. He could feel it - feel Ryan reaching out, as though some part of him was no longer in his physical body but reaching Michael on some other plane. He wondered if this was what it was like when Geoff used the Sight.

He focused on this new situation, imagining he was trying to call for help - focused on those feelings of alarm, desperation. Tried to communicate, _danger_.

“Okay,” Ryan said, and his voice jolted Michael back to reality. His eyes snapped open and he found Ryan looking at him thoughtfully. “I think that worked. I would’ve been able to tell you were in trouble. Was it the Wither you were thinking about?”

“Yes!” Michael replied. “Could you see them?”

“I couldn’t see anything,” Ryan replied, “Gods, no. The bond’s not visual. The last thing I want is us suddenly reading each other’s thoughts. But the feelings… that fear, it’s very particular. When we saw the dragon… and now, these things… they’re from another world, and we can sense how unnatural they are. It’s not like facing an army of human soldiers, or some earthly wild animal. Something about them’s just wrong…”

He trailed off, then shook himself.

“That was good,” he said, and Michael couldn’t help but smile, pleased. “But the problem is, I wouldn’t know where you were, or what to do to help you. Only that you _needed_ help.”

“We also don’t know if that’ll work over long distances,” Michael pointed out. Ryan nodded, then clapped his hands together.

“Trial two,” he declared. “Suppose you’re out on patrol. I’m going to try to get your attention and indicate that I want you to come back here to the Wild castle.”

“Got it,” Michael said. He closed his eyes again and tried to clear his mind, thinking it might make it easier to sense when Ryan reached out to him - only to feel a sudden and violent tug on the bond. It felt like someone literally yanking at him - like they’d suddenly barged inside his head and were trying to tug him out.

“Fuck, okay, yeah you got my attention,” he snapped, opening his eyes.

“No talking,” Ryan replied calmly. Michael rolled his eyes, but nudged back at Ryan’s mind - focusing on feelings of curiosity, questioning. _Yes, I hear you - what is it?_

For a moment, nothing. Then he was flooded with a sudden wave of feelings. _Safety. Home. Return._ All of it undercut with worry. He could see no images, but the messages was clear. _Come back._

“I understood what you meant,” he said. “So yeah, it works - but I don’t know if it’s only because you told me beforehand that that’s what you meant. If that happened out of the blue, it might’ve just confused me.”

“We’ll work on it,” Ryan replied. He sounded pleased, and he stepped back and picked up his journal, flipping it open and scribbling what Michael presumed were notes on this little experiment. “I think, with practice, we could get it to work more. Is that how magic works?”

“You’d have to ask Gavin about that,” Michael replied. “He’s the magic expert here.”

Ryan paused, then peered up at him over the top of his book, face unreadable.

“Ah yes,” he said, slowly. “He told you, did he?”

“About his witch thing?” Michael asked. It was clear from the look on Ryan’s face that yes, he meant the witch thing. Michael shrugged. “Yeah, he did. It was surprising, but I guess no one’s ever known much about them. It makes sense that they’re people who the Wild’s magic got all into. So do you believe in it now?” he added. “Magic, that is.”

Ryan stared thoughtfully down at the pages of his book for a moment.

“I suppose I do, if only because if the crowns are indeed made of the tower, it would seem that it’s the source of magic in the land,” he replied, slowly. “I’d need to study it more to understand. I wonder what would happen if we put our crowns all back together. If they did used to be part of the one structure… something might happen. Did you bring yours here with you?”

Michael opened his mouth, only to pause, suspicious. He hadn’t brought his crown - it was back in the Alps - but Ray had brought his.

“Is this a trick question?” he demanded.

To his surprise, Ryan looked almost hurt. Then his face clouded over. He snapped the book shut and turned away.

“You still don’t trust me,” he said coldly. “Of course.”

Michael felt almost guilty, suddenly.

“Hey,” he said, stepping towards Ryan. “I didn’t mean it like that. Come on - not everyone’s out to get you, you know.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ryan replied, stiffly.

Michael swallowed.

“So I heard you killed your mother,” he blurted out. He saw Ryan freeze, shoulders stiffening, before he turned slowly towards Michael, face twisting into a dangerously cold scowl.

“What the fuck?” he asked. “Who told you that? Was it Gavin?”

“Ray,” Michael replied, calmly.

The other man had told him last night, after he got back from the city with Geoff. They’d stayed up talking - it’d felt like old times, as they finally let each other in again. They’d discussed the others for a bit, and Ryan was the one who’d come up the most. It had been nice, hearing Ray’s thoughts on things again.

He’d been shocked by the revelation, of course, but it hadn’t been hard to work out why Ryan might’ve done it.

“Who told _him_?” Ryan demanded.

“Geoff?”

Ryan let out a hiss of breath between his teeth, throwing his hands up.

“Of _course_ ,” he said, and let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “So you’re all gossiping about me behind my back, is that what’s happening here? And you say you’re not all out to get me!”

“No,” Michael protested, “It wasn’t like that.”

Ryan shot him a disbelieving look, and Michael swallowed.

“I mean, I was surprised,” he said, “Because I’d always heard that some anarchist assassinated her or something, you know? So hearing it was you was kinda… I mean, it’s shocking to hear at first, but… it makes sense.”

“Is that all you have to say about it?” Ryan sneered. “It _makes sense_?”

His voice was tight, carefully mocking - like he was expecting contempt, or disgust, and bracing himself for it - but Michael just nodded, calmly.

“I’ve heard about her, and the things she did,” he said. “She wasn’t good. Someone had to stop her. You stepped up and did it.”

Ryan looked rather shocked. After a moment, he shook himself.

“That’s unexpected, coming from you,” he replied, still sounding rather defensive. “I would’ve assumed you’d think the worst of me.”

Michael bit his lip. It was true, he’d held a grudge against Ryan for his hostility and rudeness during the games. For the way he’d treated Geoff, and Gavin, and how he’d let the rumours about the other man and the lasting hostility between the Stoneworld and Alps colour his impression of Ryan. But lately, as _all_ of them spent time together… it was easier to see Ryan as a person, not a caricature. And sure, Ryan wasn’t exactly the most welcoming, friendly or generous of individuals, but Michael was starting to get more of an impression that he was just very devoted to his own kingdom, to the point where he’d put them first over helping anyone else.

“So far,” he said, ”You’ve cooperated with all of us. Ray was telling me some of the things you said to him, too. He trusts you, and I trust him. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t trust you _yourself_ yet. But you’re not Queen Haywood.”

Ryan didn’t seem to know what to say. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, chin lifted, drawing himself up to his full height in a nearly animalistic attempt at intimidation.

“But to kill your own _mother_?” he challenged, like he _wanted_ Michael to argue. “Does it not _disgust_ you?”

Michael considered it for a moment, but he didn’t have to think long. He’d already talked this over with Ray earlier.

“To me, it just seems really simple,” he replied. “In the Alps, honour is everything. Everyone has to take care of each other, and no one can be selfish, or you put others at risk. So if someone violates your trust, and your kingdom’s trust, by doing the sorts of things the Queen did… to battle them would be the noble option. Preferably to the death. But in your kingdom, it’s different. The games of treachery that have always gone on in the Stoneworld make me think that challenging her to a fight might not have worked very well. So you poisoned her. Either way, you killed her because you had to. Because it was the right thing to do. I can respect that.”

“It’s not an action I am proud of,” Ryan hissed, “Or that should be respected.”

“Well, I can understand why you did it,” Michael insisted. “I don’t think you were wrong. And I can’t put myself into your shoes, because my parents were never like yours, but if they had been… I think I’d’ve done the same, if it came to it.”

Ryan stared at him. He looked guarded, but also startled like he was trying to figure out if Michael was sincere. Michael stared back, and after a moment Ryan scoffed and turned away.

“Bloodthirsty lot,” he muttered, “You Alpine people.”

Michael couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“It’s hard to survive there,” he replied. “You have to be brutal sometimes, if people won’t work together. But Ryan, I do mean it. I don’t think less of you for it. If anything, I think more of you.”

“That’s a first,” Ryan said softly.

“Ray doesn’t think poorly of you either,” Michael said, and thought he saw Ryan’s lips twitch into a small smile.

“The two of you…”

“What?” Michael asked.

“Nothing,” Ryan said, and shook his head. “Just… you take things in stride that I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Well, we can’t all go into shrieking histrionics like Geoff,” Michael replied.

Ryan laughed - startled, but much louder and more genuine than Michael had ever expected of him. It was funny how that one sound suddenly made him see the other man so differently - just a young man, not even that much older than Michael himself, and just as capable of hurt, of fear. Of laughter and love. He found himself chuckling too, their eyes meeting as they exchanged a grin.

“Just wait until Gavin does an interpretative dance to try and explain why he betrayed you during the games,” Ryan replied, and Michael nearly choked.

“Oh, gods. Did he actually?”

“More of a play, but there was lots of hand-waving and dramatic swirling his scarf around.” Ryan shook his head, but his eyes were crinkled at the edges, and while Michael knew whatever had gone down between them had probably been a lot more deep and meaningful than all that, the fact that Ryan was _joking_ about it was probably a good sign.

“Anyway,” Ryan said, shaking himself. He opened the door, but waited, holding out an arm for Michael to leave first. “We’d better go and plan how to destroy this portal now. I have some ideas I want to run past the others. The golems should’ve fetched my stuff from the lab by now.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss-ingno made this [wonderful graph](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149051166739/miss-ingno-the-votes-have-been-cast-the) showing the votes who for people think the temporary death in the story will be! >:')
> 
> And more fanart:
> 
> [Witch Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/148809684624/qorianpavus-i-draw-maybe-once-in-a-blue-moon) by qorianpavus
> 
> [WTLG characters](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/148928289109/pansexualyork-i-kind-of-fell-in-love-with) by pansexualyork
> 
> thank you all so much! <3


	12. Chapter 12

“We’ll leave just past dawn,” Ryan announced. “These creatures seem to be able to see in the dark, so there’s little point trying to hide from them, let alone put ourselves in a situation where we can barely see as well.”

The others nodded. Everyone was gathered in the throne room, soldiers and Wild folk alike looking on as the kings stood around the map. The location of the portal was circled in bright red, and Ryan pointed to it now.

“The creepers will go in first. They can move silently and blend in, so if anything can give us the element of surprise, it’s them,” he said. He turned to Gavin, standing beside him. “Using them as scouts, you’ll work out how many Wither are around the portal. When you find them, blow them up - the explosions should be big enough to take a good number of them out, and it’s not like the Wither can kill them without detonating them anyway.”

“Solid,” Gavin replied, giving him a thumbs up.

Ryan turned to Ray next.

“Ray, you’ll lead a team of archers - both human and draugr - that’ll create a perimeter defence around the area. Stay up in the trees, out of sight, and provide cover. Aim for the heads if you can. Killing these things from the distance is the best way, so you’ll be the most important part of not letting them overwhelm us with numbers.”

Ray nodded, and Ryan traced a finger along the map.

“Depending on how many are in the area, the golems will clear a path and get Gavin safely inside. He’ll take Endermen with him, because based on what he saw in their memories, they can easily remove the Eyes from the portal to close it. Afterwards, we’ll bring any remaining creepers and golems down into the basement, and detonate them. Hopefully the explosion will destroy the base of the portal entirely so it can’t be opened again.”

“As for the rest of us,” Michael added, addressing the armies, “We’ll form groups that take out any remaining Wither. Stay together - the last thing we want is for anyone to be isolated or surrounded. Does everyone know what they’re doing?”

There were nods all around. Ryan watched in silence. The soldiers were subdued, a little wary about this entire situation. He could hardly blame them. Save those who’d fought the dragon in the Plains, it was unlikely any of them had faced a supernatural threat of this nature before.

He met Michael’s eyes, across the table, and the other man gave him a nod and a small smile. He didn’t seem nervous - then again, he’d probably seen the most combat of all of them.

For some reason, as silence fell, everyone turned to Geoff, waiting for him to say something. He’d been standing at the head of the table, arms folded and eyes trained on the map. After a moment he looked up and snorted.

“What, are you waiting for me to give a big epic speech? I’m tired, guys. I’ve been watching Mark Nutt wave his dick around pissing all over the place for eight fucking months. If that’s his idea of a motivating speech, well, I don’t quite think I can live up to it. Let’s just get this done, alright?”

There were snorts and laughter from the men, and Ryan watched, fascinated. He’d never seen an army smiling before a battle before - never seen them genuinely amused rather than riled up from being yelled at. It certainly made the atmosphere suddenly seem a little more excited, more motivated, instead of afraid.

“I don’t know,” Gavin piped up. “I could whip my nob out, if people think it’d help.”

"Please don’t,” Barbara chimed in from behind him. She was standing with the others, nearly invisible in the shadows in their creeper skins. Gavin laughed, and walked over to them - and with that, the meeting broke up, as the respective kings moved to give final, specific instructions to their delegations.

Ryan was left with his golems. For the first time it hit him that he was completely alone here - he hadn’t brought human units, had thought they were better left at the city with Mica. He felt a bit awkward, lingering around the metal men - pretending to give them final touch-ups, although they were all in perfect shape already. He tried not to dwell on the sudden loneliness that threatened to rise up in his chest.

In his peripheral, he saw someone moving towards him, and looked up to see Jack.

“You’re not coming along,” Ryan said - he’d noticed, when they converged for this final meeting, that Jack hadn’t armoured up like everyone else.

Jack shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “We need people guarding the castle back here, and ready to ride to the Stoneworld to warn them if anything goes wrong. I wish I was coming. I want to be out there with you.”

“But Geoff doesn’t want to lose his heir,” Ryan guessed, and Jack gave a small nod.

“That too.”

“It makes sense,” Ryan said. “You wouldn’t want both the King and his advisor wiped out at once. Don’t take it as Geoff thinking you’re weak, or he’d not have appointed you his successor.”

Jack gave a small smile.

“I know,” he said, “But still. It’s worrying being the one left behind, especially when… when I can’t feel it if anything happens to you lot. To Geoff, or Gavin, or _any_ of you. If, gods forbid, Geoff did die out there - I wouldn’t even know to put the crown on.”

So Ryan had been right - they had brought it with them. But he didn’t dwell on it now, just turned to look at Geoff, who was walking around his men, clapping them on the shoulders, leaning in to say a few words to each.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured Jack. “I know I’ve made fun of him, but he’s a tough old bastard.”

Jack laughed, a little startled, and Ryan couldn’t help his grin.

“I’m sure he’d be very flattered to hear that,” Jack snorted. “Well. Be careful out there, Ryan.”

“I’m always careful,” Ryan said, and Jack smiled again before reaching out and squeezing his arm. Ryan stared at him - Jack held his gaze for a moment before letting go and walking back to the others. Ryan watched him leave - his heart suddenly pounding - confused, but oddly reassured.

 

* * *

 

Gavin had been rather lucky his entire life. Most people probably couldn’t have gone from a nameless orphan to the king of the Wild, after all. Nearly everything he’d done had worked out for him. He’d robbed a king only to be invited into his court, he’d gone out to fight the beast on his own and _won_ , he’d built a kingdom from scratch and somehow it hadn’t all fallen apart the second there was a strong gust of wind. Not to mention, the dragon had passed clear over his kingdom, so he hadn’t had to deal with it.

So some part of him had, perhaps naively, expected that this mission would go just as well as everything else had. Ryan had said everything so confidently, made it all sound so _simple_. Foolproof, even. Wasn’t that a laugh.

But nope. Things went wrong pretty bloody _immediately_.

“I can’t see anything,” he hissed to Ryan, who stood by his side with the golems in tow. They were surrounded by Endermen, the dark shadows they cast keeping them hidden in the jungle where they were crouched in the undergrowth, some distance away from the clearing. They had run into a few Wither on the way over here, but otherwise, the forest was completely clear. They’d expected more near the portal, but when Gavin had sent out the creepers as planned…

Nothing.

“What?” Ryan whispered back, and Gavin shrugged.

“Nothing! There’s no one there. The area around the portal is completely empty.” He closed his eyes and moved back into the creepers’ minds. The creatures were slipping silently through the jungle surrounding the clearing, but no Wither were emerging, and the creepers couldn’t see or smell any. He came back to himself and glanced up at Ryan.

“That’s odd,” Ryan replied, a tight note of frustration in his voice. So far, the whole operation had taken place in silence, as they tried not to draw attention to themselves. To find nothing when they finally got here was rather anticlimactic, and Gavin could tell the other man was annoyed. Of course he was. Ryan needed to be in control of everything, so this sudden, unexpected twist in plans meant they were probably about to be blindsided. Just great.

“Maybe they’re somewhere else in the jungle?”

“Why would they be? They haven’t attacked the castle, so they must be guarding the portal. What else could they be doing?”

“Going after a crown, like all the others did,” Gavin suggested. “The dragon skipped right over us to go to the Plains, remember? And the minotaur stopped after it took the Wild crown.”

Ryan considered this, his face tightening.

“So they may be on their way to the Stoneworld,” he began, slowly.

“Or the Desert, or the Alps,” Gavin replied, but Ryan shook his head, letting out an annoyed hiss.

“Shit. You might be right. Still - if we’re here, we need to close that damn thing before anything else comes through. If there’s really no one around, then you should be safe to go in. I’ll send the golems with you anyway.”

Gavin swallowed. He checked through the creepers’ eyes again, but there was still nothing. Something about that silence, that absence, unsettled him. He wasn’t often scared, but now, something uneasy built up in his stomach.

“I… I don’t know,” he began. “Something feels off about all this.”

“What do you want to do? Go back?” Ryan seemed distracted, glancing around the forest before turning back to Gavin. “We’ve come this far. Get in there and fucking finish this off. If those things are going to the Stoneworld, we need to find them and stop them. We don’t have time to waste.”

Gavin bit his lip. He still wasn’t quite comfortable with this - but he could see Ryan was tense, his shoulders hunched up and sword drawn, now, practically fidgeting with the desire to go and check on his own kingdom. If the Wither were, indeed, gone from the jungle and heading there, then they had no time to waste. Gavin didn’t want to be the cause of something else bad happening to the Stone kingdom.

He swallowed his fear down, and stepped forward.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m going in.”

Ryan glanced at him. He seemed to realise something was wrong, and a flash of something nearly concerned crossed his face - but Gavin was already moving forward, slipping through the jungle towards the clearing. As planned, the zombies and golems surrounded him, creating a shield of human bodies as he moved.

Everything remained eerily empty and silent around him. There was nothing in the clearing except the creepers he could sense in the surrounding area, and the draugr hidden up in the trees. Still - he felt like a sitting duck, waiting for some nasty surprise to leap out at him, a tingling, crawling unease making the hair rise on the back of his neck.

_Ray’s here_ , he thought. _He’s watching from the trees. If anything happens, he has your back_.

He took a deep breath, letting that thought reassure him. In the dawn light, the entrance to the underground basement looked ominous. Like a solitary grave in the middle of the earth, or some entrance to hell. But the mobs in the jungle were a thousand eyes keeping watch, and he braced himself and began to descend the stairs, sending the zombies ahead so that if the Wither were hiding down in the hole, he’d know.

They weren’t.

It was simply empty. As the zombies entered the chamber, he sensed there was nothing but the empty room and the portal - some fallen, crumpled bodies of golems from their previous battle, but that was all.

“This is good,” he muttered under his breath. “This is good, this makes it easy…”

So why did it feel so _wrong,_ like they were about to be tricked somehow? Were the creatures that intelligent that they’d know to set a trap?

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and entered the chamber. The Endermen followed him, casting tall shadows across the walls that made him feel like an entire audience of dark spectators were watching him.

And there was the portal. After what had come out last time, Gavin was wary of the darkness. It seemed ominous and evil, like anything could burst out at any second.

Still. He inched forward, summoning the Endermen along with him. He could feel their humming excitement, their recognition that whatever was beyond that infinite darkness, it was _their_ magic, _their_ home. Gavin licked his lips nervously - then hopped up the stairs, right up to the top of the portal.

This wasn’t part of the plan. But he wanted to check and see if a human could remove the Eyes of Ender. They still didn’t know if the portal had been open in the Wild this entire time, or if it’d been closed and then opened again between the destruction of the Woodland Kingdom and the arrival of the minotaur. That gap in their knowledge was bugging him, and he reached out and grasped one, tugging at it.

Nothing happened. It wouldn’t budge. So an Enderman _was_ needed, then. He started to step back, when suddenly he froze as a ripple of magic seemed to pulse out of the portal and wash over him.

It felt like wind, but it didn’t shift his hair or clothes. Just a wave of pure energy that washed over him and seemed to set the magic in his own blood singing. He stiffened, staring at the portal, bracing himself for something to come out-

When suddenly, a low voice spoke right in his ear, making him jump and spin around.

“ _Wild King_.” The voice was deep and had an odd, distant echo to it, like it’d been shouted off a mountaintop. It felt as though it was right beside him, but there was no one there, and he felt no presence. “ _What is taking you so long?”_

“Who is this?”  Gavin demanded, spinning in a circle. He was alone save for the mobs.

There was a pause that, for some reason, felt almost _awkward_. If a mystical invisible voice could even be awkward.

“ _Wait_ ,” the voice said, and sounded almost confused. Gavin might’ve laughed if he wasn’t, y’know, trying not to shit his pants at the bloody _invisible man in the room with him_. “ _You are not him. But you feel the same_.”

“Um,” Gavin said.

“ _Well.”_ There was a sharp sneer in the voice now. “ _Isn’t this interesting?”_

“I am the Wild King. Who are you?” Gavin demanded. “Where are you? Can you see me?”

He peered tentatively into the portal, but there was nothing there except the swirling darkness, and he stepped back quickly for fear of falling in.

“ _Little king_ ,” the voice began after another pause. “ _I have an offer for you-”_

Before he could continue, distant explosions rang out above ground. Gavin instinctively reached out to the creepers and found them slowly vanishing, exploding one by one. He caught flashes of chaos, battle - of the Wither, and Michael’s warriors charging in.

“Too late!” he cried, assuming the voice could hear him. “Gotta run, sorry - sounds like shit’s going down out there!”

He stepped away from the portal. Part of him was seized with curiosity as to who that had been, but in the heat of the moment, he knew that the portal had to be destroyed, or they’d never be safe from the beasts. That came first.

“Take out the eyes,” he ordered the Endermen - only to flinch back as one of them suddenly crumpled to the ground, an arrow in the back of its head. He whipped around to find a crowd of Wither descending the steps and entering the room, bows raised and firing-

“Fuck!” he yelled, and barely managed to dive behind the portal. His heart was racing as he pulled out his own knife, mentally guiding the Endermen, ordering them to teleport around to avoid the arrows and attack the Wither from behind, and two more of them to begin removing the Eyes from the portal. He felt them manage to grab them and pull three of the Eyes on one side out - with a great, groaning hum, the portal flickered away, the darkness in the middle dying out.

A sudden, intense wave of anger shot through what felt a hell of a lot like the crown bond, and Gavin stiffened, a chill running down his spine. He never felt anything in his soul that didn’t come from one of the other Kings, but there was something foreign to this emotion - it wasn’t coming from Ryan, or Michael, or any of the others. It was a _stranger_ , and in the intimate space of the bond, that was terrifying.

Before he had time to dwell on it, he heard the clatter of footsteps on stone as the Wither spilled into the room, and felt more of his Endermen and zombies stumble under their arrows. Taking a deep breath, he peered around the edge of the portal, only to duck back quickly as a wicked black arrow shot right past his head.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed between clenched teeth. He’d glimpsed the skeletons and there were far too many of them, crammed into this little stone room. It wouldn’t be long before they got around here and attacked him - the golems were barely holding them off, falling one by one under the onslaught.

He took a deep breath and was preparing to make a run for it when he heard a sudden yell from behind him - a _human’s_ voice, letting out a roar that echoed through the entire room. A battle cry followed by the clash of metal on metal. He peered around the edge just in time to see a flash of Michael’s bear cloak as he whirled into the room and lopped two Withers’ heads clear off. His teeth were bared, sheer bloodlust on his face as he kicked one of the Wither back away from him and stabbed it through the face. Four more warriors surged in behind him, and with the element of surprise on their side they quickly took out a significant portion of the Wither before they could even put their bows away and draw their swords instead.

Gavin darted out from behind the portal. He leaped at one of the Wither near Michael and jumped onto its back, stabbing it through the back of the skull as he tackled it to the floor before rising fluidly to his feet. Michael turned and saw him. There was an intense, focused ferocity in his eyes that nearly took Gavin’s breath away. He’d never seen the other man in battle before, and there was something about the look on his face that might’ve been intimidating if they weren’t on the same side. Instead it send a pulse of something like exhilaration through him - Michael swung his sword without looking and took out another Wither beside him before grabbing Gavin’s wrist.

“Come on!” he yelled, and dragged Gavin towards the stairs before he could protest.

There were sounds of battle coming from up above, echoing through the stone corridor. Gavin couldn’t feel any of his creepers up there, and he was so focused on not tripping on the steps that he didn’t dare try and concentrate on what his draugr were doing.

“What happened?” he called out, as they ran. Michael still had a tight grip on his wrist, tugging him along after him. “The clearing was empty before!”

“They were in the ground,” Michael yelled back.

“In the _ground_?”

“Yeah. They just fucking burst out of the earth. They were hiding under there. I don’t know how they did it, but fuck, _everywhere_ ’s dangerous now. We didn’t even see them. They’re all out there, as soon as you went in they started to attack…”

He trailed off as they reached the top of the stairs. Gavin stumbled as Michael suddenly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, keeping him held under cover as he peered out. When he turned back to Gavin, his eyes were stern, and when he spoke, there was a note of authority in his voice that no one could have argued with.

“You took the portal out?”

“Not all the Eyes, and I think the Endermen dropped them in there because I didn’t have time to get them to destroy them, but yes. For now it’s closed.”

“Okay. Ryan’s holding them off around the jungle, and Geoff’s in the clearing. Go and find Ryan, and Ray will come and meet you guys. As soon as you get out there, run. It’s too dangerous in this area and you’re not armed. You got it?”

He squeezed Gavin’s shoulders, and Gavin nodded, staring into his eyes. Michael patted him on the arm.

“Okay, then - go, go!”

They emerged into the chaos of the clearing. Golems, zombies, Michael’s fearsome fur-clad warriors and Geoff’s soldiers were engaged in combat with the fast and silent Wither, the ringing clash of metal and the cries and grunts of the men echoing through the jungle. Arrows were flying every which way - the Wither falling under Ray’s onslaught. But there were so _many_ of them, and even as Gavin watched, others burst out of the earth, perfectly smooth dirt suddenly exploding outwards as the creatures seemed to burrow themselves out from deep within the ground. He had no idea how they’d gotten _in_ there, but didn’t stop to dwell on it.

He spied a gap in the fighting, and _sprinted_ for it - arrows were flashing around him, but the magic of the Wild surged through him, heightening every instinct. He let it guide him to duck and dodge, weaving his way between clashing bodies and at one point springing up onto the shoulders of one of the golems and leaping off it, jumping nimbly from head to head of the Wither lining up to fight it before leaping back to the ground and landing neatly. Heart pounding, head spinning, he sprinted into the trees, into the jungle-

 

* * *

 

Well, everything had just royally gone to shit, hadn’t it?

When the Wither didn’t continue to pursue them to the Wild Castle, Ryan had anticipated that they might be intelligent enough to be setting some sort of trap around the portal. He’d figured that if Gavin had sent his creepers and draugr out first, they’d either spring it with the mobs, or see what it was.

They were cleverer than he’d thought.

He wasn’t sure how the Wither had managed to hide themselves in the earth, or how they’d burst out so suddenly. What he did know was that there were far, far more of them than he’d expected - they must’ve continued spilling through the portal after it was left open.

And now, most of his golems were destroyed, and he was left retreating alone through the jungle, stumbling through the difficult terrain in his haste to escape.

“Fuck,” he hissed, as his boot caught on a tree root and he nearly fell. He glanced over his shoulder as he righted himself, and found three Wither still closing in on him. One had produced a bow, and Ryan barely flung himself out of the way in time as it fired at him.

The arrow struck a tree behind him, and the trunk rotted immediately around the arrowhead, creeping strains of dead black spreading slowly from the wound.

Ryan had thrown himself sideways, and he found himself on the edge of a steep bank. Below, there were sharp rocks, and a river - slow, but deep and murky - trickling past.

The Wither turned to him. It raised its bow again, and he had no choice - taking a deep breath, he threw himself backwards over the bank.

This turned out to be a horrible idea.

He’d hoped to control his descent, but the bank turned out to be far steeper and far slipperier than anticipated, covered in loose little pieces of gravel that rolled under him, digging into his flesh and tearing little holes in his clothes. He tumbled painfully down, catching glimpses of the black arrow shooting away over the bright sky above him-

_Crash!_

The ground hit suddenly and painfully. How had he forgotten the sharp rocks below? His rib cracked against something as he landed on his side, elbow striking another sharp stone and sending pain flaring through his arm. He cried out - more of a punching wheeze as the air was knocked out of him - and lay, stunned, for a moment.

He was wet all over - sticky, warm blood all over his side, but the cold water of the river splashing over onto the rocky bank, coming in lapping pulses under his head and neck.

_"Fuck_ ,” he hissed. He took stock of himself. Nothing life threatening, but when he tried to sit up, pain speared through his side, and he fell still, taking shallow breaths. “Fuck, fuck-”

The Wither were following him down the slope.

With expert movements, they picked their way down the bank, swords drawn. Ryan tried to get up again, but cursed as he couldn’t, his arm giving out under him. He realised with horror that he’d dropped his sword as it fell, too. He could see it lying at the base of the hill - out of reach, and too close to the advancing Wither.

_Now_ there was fear, and in some sudden, desperate instinct, he reached out through the soul bond and channelled every frantic, panicked emotion he could muster - a ringing distress call.

_Help!_

He could feel only faint glimpses of the others, occupied as they were - adrenaline and furious glee from Michael as he fought, tiredness and intense concentration from Geoff - they were the only ones he brushed against as he came back to himself and made a third, desperate attempt to rise, leaning on one of the rocks nearby and heaving himself to his feet-

Only to fall, again, as his blood-slick hands slipped against the wet rock. He doubled over, gasping in pain.

The Wither closed in, and a cold hand of _fear_ closed around him as one of them raised its sword and rushed towards him in a sudden charge-

A furious cry rang out, echoing through the ravine. A flash of green flew in from the side and collided with the Wither, sending it flying.

Gavin landed neatly atop the creature, chest heaving. Quick as a flash, he brought his knife down and stabbed the Wither through the eye.

Ryan stared, incredulous - he’d swung from a tree right on the edge of the cliff, launching himself clear over the edge towards the skeleton. Ryan couldn’t fathom how he hadn’t broken his fucking ankles on impact.

“Behind you!” he yelled.

Gavin spun around and barely ducked a swipe from another of the creatures. Both of them had come up and were unleashing a flurry of attacks on him - he dodged another, barely sidestepping it, before flipping backwards out of the way. He’d drawn them away from Ryan, but was forced to back up now - the Wither had swords, but he only had a knife, and as they advanced on him, Ryan realised with horror that with the water behind him he was hemmed in, nowhere to go.

Another swipe that Gavin barely ducked. He leaped backwards again, but slipped on wet rock and stumbled. Silently, one skeleton moved in for the kill-

When with a great rumble, the entire bank of the river shook. Gavin fell over, and the Wither stumbled at this sudden earthquake - the creatures backed up as the ground between them and Gavin split, a deep crevice opening up as an enormous wall of thorned vines shot into the air, creating an impenetrable barrier. More snaked out from the ground towards the Wither, curling around them like grasping tentacles and lifting them high into the air before ripping their skulls from their bodies. The Wither crumbled into black dust, and the vines receded into the earth to reveal Gavin, sitting stunned on the ground, eyes wide.

“Holy shit!” he said.

“Ray,” Ryan said, when he’d recovered himself. His heart was pounding - that display of magic had been fucking impressive. He’d had no idea the Desert gift could be used like that.

Sure enough, Ray rose from where he’d been crouched, palms pressed to the ground some distance away. He’d just emerged from the undergrowth, and there were twigs and leaves in his hair - he looked shaky, exhausted from the effort of using so much magic - but he rushed to Gavin’s side, and dropped down beside him.

“You okay?” he asked. His hands were on Gavin’s arms, running him over for injury - oddly familiar, Ryan thought.

Gavin nodded, though he reached up and grasped Ray’s shoulder, looking rather dazed himself.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he said. “It’s Ryan who’s hurt.”

Ray looked up, and noticed Ryan lying sprawled on the ground, bleeding and undignified. Concern flashed across his face, and he rose and came over.

“Shit! You’re bleeding. Did they get you?”

“No,” Ryan assured him. With the danger passed and the adrenaline fading, he felt rather embarrassed by the entire situation. His panicked distress call. His _helplessness_. “I took a bit of a tumble down that bank.”  
  
“A _bit of a tumble!_ ” Gavin exclaimed. He’d come over too, now, and was staring incredulously up at the slope. “You must’ve broken every bloody bone in your body!”

“Just cracked a rib, I think,” Ryan replied, nonchalantly. “I’ll be fine if you can get me upright.”

He was clinging pathetically to the nearest rock to stay sitting up, and felt rather silly sprawled there on the ground. All he could think was, thank the gods he hadn’t decided to wear a kilt today, or he’d be flashing everyone from here to the Plains.

Luckily, Ray and Gavin made no comment. They moved up either side of him and each took an arm around their shoulders, heaving him to his feet. The movement jostled Ryan’s side, and he clenched his teeth, a single low hiss escaping him at the flare of pain. Once standing, it eased, but he couldn’t move fast, and he doubted he could fight, not something as strong as a Wither.

He turned and found his face very close to Gavin’s, startled green eyes staring back at him.

_He saved my life_ , he realised, and remembered the jolt of near-fear when he saw them both go down - when he wondered, for a second, if Gavin might’ve fallen on the creature’s sword.

_He could’ve left me. He definitely didn’t need to risk his life swinging in there like that_.

“What’s the plan?” Ray asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

Ryan shook himself.

“The portal,” he remembered, and gripped frantically at Gavin’s arm. “Is it closed?”

“For now,” Gavin replied, but a funny look had crossed his face. A hesitant, secretive note to his voice as he said, “It was… weird, I… I’ll tell you later. I didn’t get all the Eyes out, and I’m not sure where the Endermen took them. Ran out of creepers, too, so I couldn’t blow it up. But it closed as soon as one Eye was removed.”

“Still,” Ryan muttered, a dark annoyance taking over. “This whole plan is a fucking failure. We need to retreat to the castle and regroup. Gods know how many men the others have lost.”

“Gav, you get Ryan back,” Ray said. “I’ll go find Michael and Geoff.”

“No need,” Ryan replied immediately. Ray and Gavin shot him a curious look, but rather than explain, he included them as he reached out through the bond, searching for the others.

Despite the distance, it felt easier this time. Maybe it was practice, or maybe it was because the emotions were genuine rather than mustered up for some clinical experiment. But he quite easily locked onto Michael and Geoff, some distance away in the clearing, and channelled all the emotions he’d practiced. _Return. Home. Safety. Come back. Danger._

He felt Michael recognise and acknowledge the message. It was strange, a silent communication through nothing but emotions - it felt like he was in the other man’s mind, like he knew what Michael knew - but he thought he was slowly getting used to this.

Geoff, apparently, wasn’t. There was nothing but a wave of confusion on his end, but Ryan knew Michael would find him and explain. They were in the same part of the jungle. He withdrew, blinking as he returned to his own mind, to find both Ray and Gavin staring at him.

“Shit,” Ray said. He was rubbing his head, looking confused. “What… what was that?”

“The bond,” Gavin piped up. “You were communicating through it?”

“Michael and I practiced before,” Ryan informed him, “After we realised how much stronger it’d gotten since we entered the Wild.”

“You did?” Ray sounded surprised, and Ryan realised that Michael hadn’t told him. He couldn’t help but wonder why, since they had apparently mended their rift by now. He supposed they hadn’t had much time, what with planning this attack.

“It seemed a useful thing to do,” he replied. “If we do all have this magic, we may as well find a way to use it to our advantage. I’m glad we did, now. It’s proved handy with things going so fucking disastrously.”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured, “I felt you before, when the Wither attacked. You felt…”

He trailed off, and Ryan turned his head to look at him. Their cheeks nearly brushed; they stood so close together with Gavin still holding him up.

“Scared,” Gavin finished, after a pause, and Ryan stiffened, a trickle of embarrassment running down his spine. On his other side, Ray was very silent.

“It was a distress signal,” he said, stiffly. “Michael and I practiced it before.”

“Right,” Gavin said. He shifted Ryan’s weight over his shoulders. “Let’s go, then.”

They began to walk towards the castle. It was slow going, despite Ryan pushing himself as hard as he could. He was leaning heavily on both men, even if he tried not to. He felt very self-conscious, and rather like he was crushing them under his weight. They both seemed so small compared to him. But they didn’t complain as they shuffled along, Gavin leading the way back to the castle, Ray looking around, on guard for any sudden appearance of the Wither.

“Ray,” Gavin blurted out suddenly, his voice making them all jump, especially with how worried he sounded. “You’re here alone - your men!”

Ryan glanced at Ray - his face had hardened, but after a moment he gave a small, tight smile.

“They split off into pairs and separated. They’re still holding off the Wither at the clearing, and I told them to head back to the castle if they started getting overwhelmed. We got the best of it, I think. Only a few Wither started shooting at the trees. But still - they took us by surprise, and even if we took out quite a few of them, I… I did lose some. There were just so _many_.”

He looked away, and Ryan’s chest felt tight. He still remembered watching Ray lose soldiers for the first time, that night in the Wild when they went to look for Gavin. It never really got easier, you just got used to it, and something about that often felt worse.

“Sorry,” Gavin said, quietly. He paused, and leaned across Ryan to touch Ray’s arm briefly. Ray gave him a small smile.

“Thanks,” he replied, and Gavin smiled back before moving to support Ryan again.

“My golems took a hit,” Ryan said, as they continued walking. “Most of them seem to have been destroyed, but hopefully I can gather and repair them. I still have more back at the Stoneworld, but I need to keep them there in case the Wither attack the city next. Still - most important is that we regroup and replan.”

“Same here,” Gavin replied, “But my mobs will respawn. It just takes time. It’s the human losses that will be the worst. I… I hope Geoff didn’t lose too many men.”

He sounded worried, and Ryan recalled abruptly that he and Dan would’ve been friends with many of the Plains soldiers.

“That’s why I developed the golems,” he replied, with a heavy sigh. “To avoid things like this. You always need human commanders in the field, but the worst of the loss of life can be avoided.”

“Yeah, well,” Ray replied, a bit sharply, “We don’t all have your redstone tech. Bit hard for me to create a metal man powered by, what? The smell of roses?”

“I know,” Ryan replied, “I didn’t mean it like that. I am sorry for your losses.”

He didn’t know why he felt so chastised. Why the raw hurt and pain in Ray’s voice affected him so much - why he hated having been the one to put it there. But after a moment Ray sighed, and nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “It’s… it’s fine.”

“What you did with your magic, though!” Gavin piped up - Ryan was relieved at the change in topic, and he thought Ray was, too. He went a bit less stiff where he was pressed against Ryan’s side. “That was wicked!”

“I kind of freaked out,” Ray admitted. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t think I can use my gift again for a bit, that wore me right the fuck out.”  
  
“It was amazing, though,” Gavin insisted. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

Ray shrugged, seeming a bit embarrassed.

“It was just instinct,” he said. “My gift isn’t meant to be used as a weapon.”

“The gifts are whatever we shape them to be,” Ryan said. “I never thought I could power the golems with redstone, but I did. With practice, you could do a lot.”

“It was top,” Gavin agreed, “And you saved my arse!”

Ryan wondered, suddenly, if he should bring up Gavin saving him. Should _thank him_. It felt strange and abrupt to do it now - he didn’t know what to say to the other man, what to think when he looked at him.

Whatever he ended up saying, he figured he could do it privately.

“And Ryan’s, too,” Gavin was continuing cheerfully, “We were both goners.”

“The Wither are strong and unpredictable,” Ryan said sternly, “But as we see more of their tricks, we can learn and prepare for next time.”

Gavin gave a little laugh.

“Can’t keep him down,” he said. He shifted Ryan’s weight on his shoulder, and the other man let out a hiss of pain. His side wasn’t getting any better, and the constant movement wasn’t helping.

“Shit - sorry, sorry,” Gavin said. “Do you want to stop for a rest? We can - it doesn’t seem like the Wither are around, and I can feel some draugr close by that I’d like to call over.”

“If you think it prudent,” Ryan replied. He _was_ tired, and whatever else he thought of Gavin, he trusted his instincts when it came to the Wild. Gavin passed him to Ray, who carefully lowered him to sit down on a nearby log. He hovered for a moment, peering closely into Ryan’s eyes.

“You alright?” he asked, softly. There was something so genuinely caring in his face that Ryan faltered, feeling a little unsure of himself. He gave a small nod, and Ray fumbled in his pack before producing a waterskin, offering it to Ryan, who took it gratefully. He was relieved when Ray stepped back away from him - the other man’s closeness had him suddenly too aware of himself, and his breathing, and how his heart had started beating a little faster.

Gavin was standing some distance away, staring into the trees and wordlessly summoning his draugr. As Ryan watched, Ray moved up next to him, then reached out and touched him on the hip. Gavin jumped a bit and Ray drew his hand away quickly, seeming awkward - but Gavin smiled at him, more fondly than Ryan would have expected. They huddled together to discuss something in hushed tones, their heads bent in close, while Ryan watched with a slight frown.

When had they gotten so close? He’d not thought Ray cared much for Gavin, yet here they seemed so strangely familiar. Especially when, a moment later, he saw Ray take Gavin’s hand and turn it over, inspecting the grazes where he’d scraped his hands against the rocks by the river.

Ryan closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to do it, but he reached out, tentatively, towards the two men, trying to see what they were feeling. Surrounding the two of them, he could feel the magic bond swelling, more powerful than it usually was. There was something oddly peaceful and calm around them, an intimate little bubble that he withdrew from quickly before they could feel him prying.

A moment later, Gavin’s draugr emerged from the trees. Ray jumped a little, probably at the sight of _any_ skeletons in the jungle, but Gavin reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. He turned back to Ryan, and their eyes met. Gavin’s face was unreadable, nothing but determination in his eyes.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get home, then.”

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck was that?” Geoff shrieked, when he saw Michael crossing the clearing towards him.

They were both breathing heavily, covered in dark grime where the Wither’s black dust had showered them and stuck to their sweaty skin. How long had it been by now? An hour? Two - three?

Too long, yet the creatures were relentless, still emerging from the shrubbery or bursting from the ground. Geoff hadn’t counted how many men he’d lost - all he knew was that there weren’t nearly enough left standing.

“That was Ryan,” Michael shouted back, as they retreated a few steps and finally paused to catch their breath as, for a blessed moment, all the Wither were engaged with their men, no new ones pouring in. A few minutes ago, Ray’s men had repositioned themselves and a new volley of arrows had been unleashed, the cover fire a welcome relief.

“Yeah, I got that part,” Geoff said, shaking his head vigorously, like there was water stuck in his ears. Ryan’s sudden intrusion had been a shock. He hadn’t felt the other man so closely since his near death experience a few months back. “What was he doing? _How?”_

“The soul bond,” Michael explained. “We’ve been practicing using it to communicate. It’s stronger, here in the Wild. He wants us to go back to the castle.”

“How’d you know that’s what he meant?”

“I just _said_ , we fucking _practiced_ \- Jeremy! Behind you!”

At Michael’s scream, one of his men spun around, the Wither who’d snuck up on him missing as he ducked its swipe. Jeremy plunged his sword into its ribs and yanked it up, shearing the creature in half. When Geoff turned back to him, Michael’s face was grim.

“There’s too many,” he said. “We have to go.”

“They’ll follow us if we retreat,” Geoff began.

“Then we need a distraction.” Michael glanced around, then did a double take and pointed behind Geoff. “There.”

It took Geoff a moment to spot the two creepers hidden in the shrubbery behind him. When he did, he grinned.

“Gav must not have realised they were there. He didn’t end up sending them into the portal.”

“Fall back!” Michael yelled, not wasting any time. His voice was hoarse and ragged after so long fighting and breathing in the dust, but still powerful, carrying through the clearing. “Get them in a cluster!”

The men obeyed instantly. Still fighting, they slowly began to move backwards. As the Wither followed, they drew together until they formed a single dark, swarming mass.

“Go,” Michael ordered the creepers. They were still obeying his commands, and moved forward, hissing ominously.

“Break up! Break up!” Geoff yelled, seeing the men were still too close to the Wither. One creeper blast was bad enough. A double one would be even more powerful. “That thing’s about to blow, everyone scatter!”

He started to back up, and watched the soldiers scatter and start sprinting as the creepers pushed into the centre of the fray and began to pulse, ready to blow-

Geoff turned to run when he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral, and realised there was an injured Plains soldier lying on the ground, trying weakly to crawl away. He skidded to a halt as he recognised the man, and realised with horror that he was still too close to the blast.

“Matt!” he yelled.

Michael spun around. Before Geoff could stop him, he was charging forward. His gift lent him extra speed and as Geoff watched, he reached Matt and effortlessly scooped him up, slinging him over his shoulder and turning to run-

The world exploded.

Geoff stumbled backwards at the blast of heat and light that engulfed the clearing where the Wither were. Black dust billowed up into the sky, hanging like clouds of ash after a bushfire.

His ears rang, his vision flashed with bright spots - but he’d been far enough from the blast not to be too affected, and he recovered in time to see Michael and Matt be thrown through the air and slam against the trunk of a nearby tree.

“Fuck!” Geoff gasped, as they fell, motionless, to the ground. He rushed over, shaky and unsteady, and crouched beside them. Matt was limp, and Geoff reached out and rolled him over, checking for a pulse. He was relieved to find one, weak but at least _there_ \- but Matt was unresponsive, and Geoff turned to Michael instead.

He was blinking, dazedly, not quite unconscious. His head was bleeding where he’d hit the tree, and his arm looked scraped raw - but otherwise he seemed stunned more than hurt, and his life force, through the bond, didn’t falter. Still - worry gripped Geoff as he grabbed the younger man’s shoulders, tugging him upright.

“Fuck - fuck, Michael! Are you okay?”

Michael didn’t answer. He kept blinking, and Geoff figured the blast must’ve affected his vision. Still - he leaned into Geoff’s touch, reaching up and rubbing at his head, wincing when his hand came away sticky and bloody.

“Ray?” he asked, softly, and Geoff’s heart clenched a little. He squeezed him tighter.

“No, Michael. It’s me, Geoff…”

He trailed off, remembering what Ryan had just done - on a whim, he focused on their bond, honing in on the particular thread of magic that connected the two of them. He felt something like recognition on Michael’s end, and the other man’s gaze slowly focused on his face.

“Sorry, Geoff,” he said, and gave a weak smile. “Fucking blast dazed me a bit-”

He broke off, eyes widening as they moved to something behind Geoff. A soldier’s instinct kicked in - Geoff instantly drew his sword and twisted around just in time to block a blow from the Wither that’d moved silently behind them.

There was an enormous crater in the ground where the creepers had blown up. Black dust littered the ground in piles, and more particles were drifting gently to the ground like some hellish snow.

But not all the Wither had been killed. A straggle of them remained - some missing limbs, or parts of their bodies, walking crookedly and dragging themselves along like zombies. They closed in now, slowly, and gathering all his strength, Geoff shoved back the one that’d attacked him with a mighty cry and stumbled to his feet.

“Not so fast, bitch,” he snarled.

His blood was singing. He wasn’t just fighting for his own life, but was suddenly, acutely aware of Matt and Michael lying helpless behind him. With a great roar, he swung at the Wither with furious, chopping blows, driving it back before finally cleaving its skull clear in half.

Three more approached, one dragging a damaged leg, the others missing arms. Geoff charged at each one, finishing them off with great swings of his sword-

Only to glance back at Michael and find, horrified, another Wither emerging from the trees right near where the other man was slowly sitting up to check on Matt. The Wither was perfectly healthy, and seemed to have been drawn back here by the noise.

For the second time, Geoff’s blood ran cold. Time seemed to slow - he didn’t think, just acted. As if in a dream, he ran forward. Felt slow, too slow, as he saw its sword rise, drawing up towards Michael’s unprotected back. He raised his own blade, ready to strike-

If he’d moved in slow motion getting there, when he finally reached Michael’s side, everything seemed to speed up, a single second of chaos.

With a yell, Michael ducked, throwing himself onto Matt to protect him as he saw Geoff charge forward and realised the danger.

Geoff lunged between Michael and the Wither, and drove his blade deep into its skull-

But just as his own sword sank into it and it began to crumble away, he felt a sudden, searing pain in his own side.

Geoff had been stabbed before. Sometimes, you didn’t even notice it at first. It was like a punch, a dull impact. The pain came later.

This felt different.

It was a cold shock, something icy and toxic that speared to an agonising peak almost instantly, before becoming a roaring fire. With a choked wheeze, he fell forwards, landing on his hands and knees in the messy dark dust, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the ground, entire body trembling.

_Pain_ , was all his mind could register. An all-consuming fire spreading along every vein. _Pain. Poison_.

He felt like Ryan again, an odd deja vu taking over him - memories that’d never been his. The shock gripped him for a moment, and spun him around in the flaming throes of agony before spitting him out the other side as it died away a little, and instead a feverish nausea took over.

He was on the ground. His side hurt, a relentless throb, and he felt sick, ready to throw up any second.

“Geoff!” Michael cried, raggedly. Geoff only dimly heard him through his roaring ears. He was lying on his side, curled in on himself, cheek pressed into the dirt.

He’d never felt anything like this before. He’d seen terrible, infected wounds on other soldiers, fevers and men and women wracked with awful trembles, wounds that made them scream at a touch. It had never happened to him before, but this felt like a fire, slowly licking its way through his entire body. He could already feel the fever setting in and an ache start to spread all the way to his extremities.

A hand touched his shoulder, making him flinch - then Michael rolled him over onto his back. His injured side hit the ground and he heard his own agonised cry echo through the clearing. Everything flashed white for a moment, drowned out by pain.

“Hey, hey.” Michael’s voice cut through it, soft and worried. “Geoff. Come on, you’re okay.”

“I’m really fucking not,” he choked out. He could hear how ragged his own voice was, feel hot tears running down his cheeks. Michael’s face swam back into view and he saw the other man grimace as he realised what’d happened.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, shit.”

Well that wasn’t good. Michael lifted Geoff’s shirt up, and Geoff squeezed his eyes shut. The mere brush of fabric against the wound sent another lick of pain up his spine. The entry wound was starting to feel numb and cold, now, but the entire rest of him burned. He heard Michael let out a horrified hiss.

“Fuck,” he said. He sounded terrified, and coming from the bravest man in all the kingdoms… well, it wasn’t very reassuring. “Fuck, fuck, okay…”

“That bad?” Geoff croaked. Michael’s face swam into view over his again, but Geoff’s vision was blurred, and he couldn’t read the look on his face.

“It’s not bleeding,” Michael replied, “But this doesn’t look good.”

“Not bleeding?”

“Yeah. Shit, this… I’ve never seen anything fucking like this before.”

The soldiers had returned by now, and Geoff could hear them murmuring, feel them hovering over him. He saw them move forward to tend to Matt, and couldn’t help being relieved by that, at least.

“Fuck,” Michael said again, and turned to his own warriors, who’d moved up behind him. “We need to get him back to the castle.”

“It looks like the Wither have retreated for now,” Jeremy replied. “We took out a lot of them with that blast.”

“Is Matt okay?” Michael asked.

“Not looking good,” Jeremy said, “But we can get him back. Are _you_ hurt?”

The words were starting to sound distant, like Geoff was hearing them from underwater. He felt himself drifting, unable to focus on anything but the pain and the fever and how _cold_ he felt-

At least until a sharp slap against his cheek jolted him, and he snapped back to himself to find Michael glaring at him.

“Hey,” Geoff groaned. His cheek was stinging horribly. “Fuck you.”

“Stay awake,” Michael snapped. “We don’t know what this shit is. If you pass out, you might not wake up.”

Okay. That was fucking terrifying. Michael rose, turning to the others, but Geoff couldn’t even sit up to look at him. It felt like the energy had been sapped right out of him, his limbs leaden-heavy to the point where he couldn’t so much as twitch a toe.

“I’ll carry him,” he heard Michael say.

“You sure?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah - I can get him back faster. I can take a hit, that blast just stunned me for a moment. Thank my gift for that. I feel fine now.”

Suddenly he was crouching by Geoff’s side again, a hand reaching to tenderly stroke over his brow. Michael’s hand was warm, but Geoff was burning up to the point where the touch was a cool relief.

“Geoff,” Michael said, softly. “Stay with me, buddy.”

He mustered a groan in response. The next thing he knew, Michael was lifting him up easily. The pain as he was moved was agonising - everything went white again, a blinding, searing confusion overtaking him. He felt dizzy, unsure what was happening, and it took him even longer to come back to himself.

When he did, and realised he was in Michael’s arms and they were moving - he could feel the others.

There was Michael, of course. His head was right against the other man’s chest. He could feel the soft fur of his cloak, the heave of his chest as he breathed. He couldn’t tell if it was the fever pulsing through him, or the steady pound of the other man’s heart, but it kept him grounded.

And there was Gavin. A steady wave of concern emanated from him through the bond - Ray and Ryan were right beside him, worried and scared, but it was Gavin he clung to, a sudden, intimate familiarity. It had been a long time since he let himself focus on the other man inside his head, but now he reached out and brushed against him, letting the feeling reassure him before he could no longer focus and everything swam away but the sensation of motion, and the pain, and the small comfort of Michael’s strong arms around him.

 

* * *

 

“Well?” Michael demanded. “What do we do? Can you fix him?”

Ray reached out and squeezed his shoulder, reassuringly. He knew that note in Michael’s voice - he sounded angry, but really he was scared. Michael glanced up, and his tense muscles relaxed a little under Ray’s touch.

He was sitting, bare-chested, on a stool in the corner of Gavin’s room. His wounds had just been cleaned and bandaged, and Ray knew he healed quickly anyway. His gift gave him not only superhuman strength but hardiness, too.

But Geoff - oh, Geoff was another story.

The Plains king lay on Gavin’s bed. The fire was lit and the room was so warm that it was nearly uncomfortable, but Geoff was feverish and trembling. The wound looked terrible. It wasn’t bleeding, but was dark and looked almost burnt, as though the sword had been so hot that it cauterised the wound even as it made it.

Worst of all were the creeping black veins spreading from the site of the injury, the flesh around it turning a mixture of death-pale and an awful, mottled purple like bruises. It looked like poison, and it was clearly spreading.

Jack sat by Geoff’s side, dabbing at his brow with a cool washcloth. Griffon and Ryan hovered over him, fussing and poking.

“This wound,” Griffon began, slowly. “It’s… it’s unnatural. I can’t tell if it’s poison - I’ve never seen one like this before.”

“But you can _fix it_ ,” Michael insisted.

Ryan looked up. He’d been crouched beside Geoff, closely inspecting the injury, and he rose now with a wince.

It was strange seeing him in only a loose shirt, with his hair down. He’d been patched up too, after getting back. But even if he looked strained and exhausted, even if he was a far cry from the regal, impeccably dressed monarch who ruled the Stone castle, somehow just the sight of him working on the problem was reassuring.

“We’ll find a way,” he said, firmly. “Two other soldiers suffered the same. We’ll keep inspecting them all. Griffon - come with me. I think it may serve us well to examine the trees that were damaged by these creatures’ weapons.”

“Good idea,” she said, rising. She turned to Jack, who was silent, face drawn as he stared worriedly down at Geoff.

The king’s face was pale, his breathing shallow. He’d been asleep for some time - asleep or unconscious, Ray couldn’t tell. Worst of all, though, he could _feel_ how weak Geoff’s life force was, through the bond. Could feel him struggling to cling on.

None of them had told Jack that, yet. He didn’t think anyone was going to.

“Keep his fever down,” Griffon advised, her voice strangely gentle. “Until we have a cure, the best thing to do is to treat the symptoms.”

Jack looked up, and gave a small smile.

“Thank you,” he replied.

Griffon nodded. She and Ryan made for the door, where Gavin was lingering, leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded and brow knit tightly together. He’d been silent, too, since Geoff and Michael returned. When Ryan’s eyes fell on him, he paused - Gavin didn’t seem to notice, until Dan, hovering behind him, took his arm and gently tugged him out of the way so they could get through.

There was an awkward silence after they left. Ray couldn’t look away from Geoff, tracking the steady rise and fall of his chest - terrified that it would stop.

“He saved my life,” Michael burst out, suddenly. “He got injured saving my fucking life-”

“Michael,” Jack began, softly.

“Fuck this shit.” Michael rose, abruptly, and marched out of the room. Gavin jumped aside as he passed, before murmuring something to Dan, who nodded.

“I’ll bring broth,” he said. “And some water.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Jack murmured, exhausted. Ray moved up to the bed to sit next to him, staring down at Geoff’s pale face. It was horrible seeing him so still and quiet.

“You okay?” he asked, tentatively.

Jack huffed out a bitter laugh.

“You know, it’s almost funny. I wanted to be out there fighting alongside him. But I stayed here, because that’s not my job. I’m the king’s advisor. I play support, I have my whole life. I supported Geoff when he became king. When the games were on. When Gavin left.” By the door, Gavin jolted, straightening up, but Jack didn’t seem to notice. “During the war with Nutt. Time and time again, I’ve been there to hold him, or heal him, or tell him what he needs to hear. And now here we are. A mortal injury-”

“Don’t say that,” Ray cut in, horrified. “We don’t _know_ that yet.”

Jack just shrugged. His voice was dull as he said, gazing down at Geoff, “What’s one more fucking thing?”

Ray bit his lip. Jack seemed upset, closed off and hurt in a way he’d never seen the other man before. He associated that sort of thing with Ryan - had no idea what to do.

“Ryan will find something,” he said, unsure what else might help. “He always does.”

“Yeah,” Jack replied, and let out a slow breath. “I… I think I want to be alone with him right now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Ray replied. There were probably things Jack wanted - _needed_ \- to say without an audience.

He gave Geoff one final, helpless look, before reaching out and squeezing Jack’s shoulder. The other man smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Ray turned to leave. Gavin was still lurking in the doorway. He looked awkward, and his gaze kept flicking between the floor and Jack. Ray realised with a pang that he was trying to work out if _alone_ included him as well.

But Jack said nothing, and as Ray passed, he took Gavin’s arm and pulled him out with him.

The corridor felt far too lifeless, the noise and chatter of the soldiers markedly absent. Everyone was either resting, on patrol, or being treated for their injuries. Half of Ray’s forces were dead. He was trying not to think about that.

He looked over at Gavin to find him rubbing his hands over his face. Their eyes met - Gavin looked as exhausted as Ray felt, still drained from using his gift so intensely.

“He’ll be okay,” Ray said, uselessly.

Gavin didn’t look convinced.

“Feels all wrong,” he muttered instead, and glanced at the closed door miserably, arms wrapping around himself.

Ray wrung his hands together, helplessly. He hated seeing Gavin so excluded - now that he and Michael had, for the most part, resolved themselves, he found himself paying even more attention to everyone _else’s_ drama. It was upsetting to see.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about Gavin anymore.

Kissing him had been undeniably self-serving. He’d wanted to test himself, to prove something, to try and get over Michael. But not only that - from the moment he’d met Gavin, Michael had looked at him like he was the fucking sun. Swooping in first and seeing what that was all about… Ray wasn’t sure why he’d thought he’d find it satisfying. Taking that away from Michael, being the first to _get_ Gavin.

He just hadn’t expected that _he’d_ suddenly like Gavin so much, too.

The look of sheer, childlike delight on his face when Ray had made the flower crown. How easy he was to talk to - how he seemed to just _get_ Ray, to dispense advice that made everything seem so much simpler.

And when they kissed…

Maybe it was just the novelty. Maybe it was magic, or the bond. But it’d felt, for a moment, like Ray understood the Wild king in some new way - something had made him see Gavin so much more clearly.

And see, too, just how well they fit together.

At least things weren’t awkward, now, even with that uncertainty. Instead, he just felt strangely close to the other man. He reached out and touched his shoulder gently - Gavin’s head snapped up, surprised, but after a moment he tentatively moved towards Ray. He was hesitant, but when Ray held his arms open, Gavin readily pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. Ray squeezed him back, feeling the bond of magic between them start to swell warm-

But before anything too interesting could happen, a sudden, loud _bang_ from one of the nearby rooms made them both jump and spring apart. It was followed by muffled swearing, and Gavin grimaced.

“Is that Michael?” he asked, and Ray scoffed out a laugh.

“Yep. We should probably go check on him.”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, looking faintly alarmed.

The noises were coming from their shared room just down the hall, and they entered to find Michael pacing frantically in the barren space. As they watched, he marched over to the wall again and beat it vigorously with his fist. The wood split, cracking under his violence.

“Oi!” Gavin cried, and Michael jumped, whirling around. “Stop destroying my castle! I built that!”

Michael stared at them silently. His eyes were red, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and Ray moved forward, concerned.

“Hey. Come on, Michael. Don’t aggravate your injuries.”

“I’m fine,” Michael hissed. Ray had come right up to him now, and could see how upset he was - how he was shaking, fists trembling at his sides.

“It’s not your fault,” he began, but Michael shook his head.

“He got hurt saving _my_ dumb ass,” he began, voice loud and nearly hysterical - Ray shook his head again, cutting in before he could continue.

“No,” he said, firmly. “Jeremy told me what happened. You were saving Matt. Geoff protected you, just like you’d protect any of us. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Michael whispered, exhausted, “But… fuck, can’t you feel it? He’s _dying_.”

Hearing someone say it out loud made Ray flinch. He didn’t like to think about it, had been trying not to focus on how he could _feel_ Geoff slipping, like he’d come loose and they were losing him.

“Ryan will save him,” he repeated, trying to swallow down the fear that had curled up in his stomach.

“Ryan’s not a doctor,” Michael spat, “Not a healer, not a fucking _magician_.”

This sudden pessimism wasn’t like him, not at all. Ray had never seen Michael this down before, this _dark_. It hurt to see him so scared - he wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was about this that had rattled his usual control.

Either way, the words had made Gavin go pale. He’d been oddly silent about this whole situation, but Ray knew he had to be fucking terrified. He stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s wrists.

“Hey,” he said, voice firm and low - too quiet for Gavin to hear. “ _Hey_.”

He stared at Michael until the other man looked up and met his eyes. Michael could’ve pulled free easily, Ray knew - but he didn’t, just looked helplessly at him.

“Ray…”

“You need to pull yourself together,” Ray hissed. “You’re scaring Gavin.”

It was a low move, but it worked. Michael looked over Ray’s shoulder and his face softened as he noticed Gavin standing there. He took a slow, deep breath, and then nodded. After a moment, Ray tugged him into a hug, and Michael moved easily to meet him, wrapping his arms around Ray’s waist and clinging to him like he was afraid to let go.

Ray’s heart was pounding, and he could feel Michael’s doing the same against his chest. He was warm, and so familiar. How many times had they embraced before? He’d missed it, and once he couldn’t have done this without being worried about what it meant, if he was being too obvious or forward - not to mention how despite all their mocking kisses for show during the last eight months, they’d never hugged, not properly, not _meaning_ it.

But now it was easy, comfortable - now that he’d accepted the way things were, was placing no expectations or getting ahead of himself. It was nice to just be _friends_ again _,_ no matter what else happened. Right now, he needed that, and he thought Michael probably did too.

After a moment, he felt Michael lift his head and look up at Gavin before holding a hand out.

“Well, get over here,” he said. “You might as well get in on this loving, too.”

Gavin gave a small laugh. He hesitantly moved forward and Michael grabbed his arm and yanked him in, wrapping his arms around both of them. Ray chuckled too - it was a little awkward with three, but he hugged both of them tightly. They probably looked ridiculous, standing here in the middle of an empty room, but just knowing he wasn’t alone in all this helped, simple as it was.

“Sorry,” Michael said quietly after a moment. He was addressing Gavin, his mouth close to the other man’s ear. “I wasn’t trying to freak you out before, with what I said about Geoff. We… we’ll find something.”

Gavin didn’t reply, but pulled them both in closer. Ray was getting used to it now, the brush of the others so close against his mind. And he could feel that both of them were scared, and anxious - but the reassurance and comfort they were getting here and now seemed to resonate between all three of them, multiplying threefold. For the time being, he let himself focus instead on the buzz of magic between all three of them, swelling and growing larger - it felt right, it felt like at least between the three of them, all the pieces were in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> justisaisfine drew this [super cute rayvin art](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149324078644/justisaisfine-in-a-rayvin-mood-because-of-jos) <3 <3 <3 thank you!


	13. Chapter 13

Geoff was so still, so pale and cold, that if Gavin hadn’t felt his life ebbing faintly through the crown bond, he might've thought the other man was dead.

The bedroom was dim now - the redstone lamps had all been taken away, and the fire was burning down to embers, filling the room with a flickering, homely glow. It reminded Gavin of the times he’d fallen sick while living in the Plains castle. Of waking up in feverish states to Jack or Geoff checking on him, pressing a cold washcloth to his brow or bringing him hot herbal tea or chicken soup. For the first time, feeling like someone would actually take care of him.

He shook it off. The room was empty now, save the crackle of the fire. He knew Dan had finally coaxed Jack to leave and go to get something to eat.

It was stupid that this was now the only time he was brave enough to come in here. When Geoff couldn’t even see or hear him.

_Come on._ He took a deep breath and inched into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He felt sick, sick with this whole situation, with the terrible possibility of losing Geoff looming constantly at the back of his head. His hands were shaking so hard by his sides that he couldn’t stop them even when he clenched his fists.

He didn’t feel like a king, here and now. He didn’t feel powerful, or in control. He felt like a scared, vulnerable child as he walked over to the bed and looked down at Geoff - his hair lank with sweat, his skin pale as snow, his lips faintly tinged a bruise-like blue.

_I can’t lose you_ , he thought, and his chest seized up just at the thought of it - _I can’t lose you, I can’t fucking lose you-_

No one Gavin cared about had ever died before. Mostly because he’d never _been_ close enough to anyone to care enough when those he knew did pass. Until he met Jack and Geoff, there’d been nobody - he’d never even had memories of his parents to mourn. Here and now, the possibility was terrifying, and for a moment it nearly overwhelmed him, his eyes stinging and a lump rising in his throat. He fell to his knees beside the bed, clutching desperately at the sheets covering Geoff.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice cracking. His vision blurred - he frantically tried to keep track of the horrifyingly shallow rise and fall of Geoff’s chest as he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I miss you so much. You can’t leave forever, we can’t _not_ fix this. Please, please… give me another chance-”

His voice faltered away and he lowered his head for a moment, swallowing hard as he tried not to cry, his shoulders heaving with every shaking breath.

If Geoff had been awake, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to say it. That was the terrible part of it all. He still hurt every time he thought about how badly the last time they were alone together had been - in the temples, the terrible heavy awkwardness. How much he’d felt like Geoff just didn’t _care_.

That time he’d been the one who was sick and hurt. But now Geoff was the one who was vulnerable, and Gavin wasn’t about to leave him.

Gathering himself, he finally worked up the courage to reach out and rest his hand against Geoff’s brow, a featherlight touch. His skin was so hot that it nearly felt like it might burn Gavin, too. But he kept it there, and closed his eyes, focusing on the bond between them. At this proximity, he felt himself begin to grow warm, too - felt the magic swell, and tried to channel all his strength and support through the bond. Like he could somehow give Geoff _his_ energy, _his_ life, to help him fight this.

This close, Geoff’s pain and confusion flooded into him, too, making his head swim and his entire body ache, as for a moment he felt like he was the one with poison coursing through his veins, burning him from the inside out. A phantom pain, his mind confused - but he pushed through it, calling on every scrap of magic he had within him.

It worked.

After a few agonizing moments, he felt Geoff settle, the pain dulling a little as the magic soothed him. It wasn’t enough - he knew it wouldn’t last, knew that it was no permanent solution. But for now, at least, he had helped just a _little_.

Geoff shifted in his sleep, his brow furrowing as he murmured something unintelligible, and Gavin snatched his hand back as though he’d been burned. Suddenly, his fear came rushing back in. He didn’t think he’d know what to say to Geoff if he woke up, and though he hated himself for his cowardice, he was already scrambling to his feet and fleeing the room, breathing heavily and trembling.

 

* * *

 

“How’s it going?” Gavin asked, tiredly, as he made his way into the throne room where Ryan and Griffon were sitting, their heads bent close together.

He’d been running around trying to find them, after having spent quite a bit of time organising everybody and making sure everyone had been fed, and had clean water, and that the wounded soldiers were being treated.

He’d been lucky not to lose anybody in the fight against the Wither. All his friends had remained back at the castle to defend it, and while a few Wither had approached it during the attack, they’d been quickly taken out by arrows. But every other kingdom had suffered significant losses, and the looks on Michael and Ray’s faces as they catalogued their dead had weighed heavily on him, too.

He’d thought Ryan and Griffon would be in the infirmary, or out inspecting the trees, but when they weren’t he had to track them down. It was dusk by now, and they looked tired in the flickering torchlight of the throne room. Tired and despairing, which had his stomach sinking even as he walked in.

Griffon rose, and came over to him immediately.

“Gavin,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he replied. “What have you found?”

“ _Gavin_ ,” she repeated, insistently, catching his arm as he tried to get past to the table where Ryan was sitting, scribbling in his little book. Gavin looked up at her impatiently, but paused at the concern in her eyes, as she lifted a hand and cupped his face, her cool fingers rubbing a smudge of dirt from his cheek.

He sighed, realising abruptly just how tired he was. He hadn’t rested, eaten, washed up or anything since returning to the castle. Griffon was probably the closest thing to a parent he had, and he felt bad for making her worry - but he wasn’t the one who’d been injured here, and they had no time to waste.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, softer now - but he still shook her off and moved towards the table. He saw Ryan watching them, intently - their eyes met a bit awkwardly before Gavin sat himself down and peered at the book. He couldn’t read Ryan’s handwriting upside down, but he’d written a lot.

“What’s going on?” Gavin asked. “What do we need to treat the withering?”

“Nothing,” Ryan said.

“What?”

“We have nothing,” Ryan replied, voice quiet and tight - Gavin’s stomach dropped, each of the other man’s words sending a new pulse of dread through him as he continued, “This is… this is nothing we’ve ever seen before. The trees that were hit are just _dying_. It’s not like they’re losing moisture, or like it’s some sort of poison that we could treat. They just wither up and die and we have no idea why.”

“The ones from yesterday are completely dead,” Griffon added. She’d come up beside Gavin, her arms folded, a grim look on her face. “In the bigger, stronger ones, it’s slow but steady. I’ve been trying different herbal brews on the soldiers who were affected - trying to bring their fever down, more than anything. But nothing’s stopping the spread.”

“Amputation might’ve been an option,” Ryan mused, “If the wounds weren’t in such bad spots. We can’t exactly cut a big chunk out of Geoff’s side.”

Gavin barely registered what he was saying. He felt cold all over, and oddly detached from what he was hearing. Like he was watching a nightmare play out, and any moment now he would wake up. Like it wasn’t real.

“So you can’t fix him,” he heard himself say, voice dull.

“We’re not giving up.” By contrast, there was something very fierce in the way Ryan said it. “I’m about to go back to the Stoneworld, to consult some books and to experiment on the Wither that I captured. That might be our best bet of finding out how to treat this thing.”

“If it is some sort of poison, well - just like a snake, the creature itself tends to hold the answer,” Griffon advised.

Gavin barely managed to nod. His chest felt tight, and it was hard to get a breath in - there was a glum pause as they considered the situation, and he tipped his head back, rubbing his tired eyes and trying to breathe slowly. When he looked back at the others, it was to find Ryan staring at him.

“You could come with me,” Ryan said, slowly. Gavin couldn’t read the look on his face. “I could use the help.”

“No,” he replied immediately, and something almost disappointed flickered in Ryan’s eyes. Gavin barely paid attention to it, or how strange he once might’ve found the other man’s offer.

He couldn’t leave. Not when… not when Geoff was _dying_ , oh gods - he couldn’t be away, in case something went wrong. And besides… a vague idea was forming at the back of his head. Like there had to be _something_ , here in the Wild with all its magic, that might help.

“Go quickly, though, Ryan,” he added, distractedly. “Take a spider - Griffon, show him where they are. You can travel faster on them. We can’t waste any time-”

His voice cracked, and he broke off. He turned, suddenly needing to leave the room - to wrap his head around the fact that they _hadn’t_ found anything, to battle this hopelessness, to get his thoughts in order - he started to march out, and saw the others rise.

“Gavin, wait,” Griffon called out, making a grab for his arm.

He must’ve looked terribly upset, but he couldn’t wait around with them. He dodged her and broke into a run, dashing out of the room and bursting out into the open air of the compound. His head was spinning, and he felt on the verge of panic as it fully hit him that the other two, the other two who he relied on, Griffon who was so calm and wise, Ryan who was always in control-

They had no idea how to fix this. No _fucking_ idea, and every second Geoff slipped further and further away - he could feel the other man’s feverish pain through the bond if he focused on it, and a choked sob escaped him as he stumbled over to the nearest tree and beat at it with his fists. It was childish, perhaps, and he felt the wood splinter and cut at the skin of his hands - but he could feel the grief and raw helplessness rising up in his chest and needed to get it _out_ , somehow-

The physical pain in his hands was cathartic, and after a moment he slumped against the trunk, drained and aching, heaving ragged gasps.

There had to be _something_ they could do. Something, _anything_. Things couldn’t end like this, they _couldn’t_ \- not at the hands of these stupid beasts from some other world they knew nothing about, who’d come through some _stupid_ portal. Like something from a bad dream.

_Portal_ , he thought with disgust - at least they’d closed it, now-

But the idea struck him - a vague notion of a thing.

_The portal. The voice_.

He didn’t think on it more, just launched into action. They had no time to waste. The sun was setting, but they’d killed most of the Wither and his mobs were respawning and beginning their lonely trek from the caves back towards the castle. Soon he’d have eyes and ears in the jungle again. He reached out with his mind and found Egg - the spider lowered herself from up in the eaves of the castle and he leaped onto her back, not stopping to tell anyone where he was going. Silently, swiftly, he sent the destination into the spider’s mind and they were off, leaping over the castle wall and racing into the gathering dark.

 

* * *

 

Michael knocked gently on the door to the bedroom, and the sight of Geoff’s head turning to look at him from the bed made relief shoot through his chest.

“Hey,” he called out, quietly. “I heard you’d woken up.”

“Yeah,” Geoff replied. His voice was so faint that Michael struggled to hear it, even in the otherwise empty room - but Geoff forced something like a smile, and lifted one hand weakly to beckon Michael over. “Come over here and prop me up.”

Michael crossed the room and hovered over the bed. He bit his lip - it was hard to look at Geoff. His eyes were bloodshot, and he’d grown so pale that it was like looking at a marble statue. He already practically looked like a corpse. Somehow, he seemed much smaller lying there in bed - Michael remembered how the trees had withered up, grown black and spindly before finally dying, and the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Geoff glanced up at him expectantly, and Michael reached out, then froze.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, worried about how much the injury might’ve spread.

Geoff let out a soft snort.

“Just do it,” he said. “It already hurts. The fever’s what’s killing me. Made me all achy. Although Griffon gave me something that’s made it pretty much numb for now.”

“Was it alcohol?” Michael asked, and was relieved when Geoff gave a hoarse laugh, eyes crinkling into a genuine smile.

“I fucking wish. It tasted like shit. Come on, I don’t wanna lie flat like this. I’ll get a crick in my neck.”

Michael carefully propped up the pillows and gently moved Geoff upright to sit against them. It wasn’t hard; his gift helped him basically pick the other man up with ease, so there wasn’t too much hauling him around. Still - he saw Geoff’s face tighten with pain as he moved, so it must’ve jostled the wound at least a little.

Geoff didn’t seem to mind too much.

“Gods, you’re strong,” he commented, something appreciative in it.

“Not strong enough to stop you getting fucking injured,” Michael muttered, bitterly.

Geoff reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could step away from the bed.

“Hey,” he said, firmly. His reddened eyes met Michael’s, something intense in them, and Michael froze, unable to look away.

“None of this is your fault,” Geoff said. His voice was barely a whisper, but still so fierce that Michael could only listen, transfixed. “I was protecting you, protecting Matt, because that’s what a leader does. Because I care about both of you, and I wasn’t about to let you die. I don’t regret it. Besides, the only reason I had to help you was because you were saving _Matt’s_ life.” He paused, a thought striking him, and added frantically, “Was he-”

“He’s not withered, no,” Michael said, and Geoff slumped in relief. His hand slipped from Michael’s arm, but Michael stayed close, crouched by the side of the bed. “He was hit with a stray arrow by one of Ray’s men. He should heal up just fine.”

“Good,” Geoff said, with a faint smile. “But he’d be dead if it wasn’t for you. We know the risks when we go into battle. So don’t you start blaming yourself, or it makes what I did worthless.”

Michael nodded, a little surprised by the passionate outburst. Geoff reached out and patted his arm. His hand was trembling, and it took him a few tries to make contact.

“Besides,” he said. “You carried me back here. So thanks, for that.”

“No problem,” Michael managed, and gave a small smile. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Guess we’re even…” Geoff trailed off, coughing suddenly - Michael froze, horrified, but Geoff seemed to recover quickly. Still - Michael didn’t like how it had sounded. Didn’t like the thought of how even now the Wither’s toxic poison was probably spreading from his side to his chest, lungs, heart - it was frightening, but he didn’t have time to think about it before Geoff’s eyes fixed on him again.

“How’s everyone else?” he rasped.

“Ryan managed to break two ribs,” Michael replied, glad to distract himself with conversation. “Apparently he fell down a cliff, or something. Ray wore himself out doing some big trick with his magic, but he’s fine. Gavin emerged unscathed.”

Geoff let out a relieved breath, and Michael couldn’t help but smile a little. As terrible as things were, as tense as the situation had been between all of them - it was clear Geoff still cared for Gavin. Michael could see it, even if Gavin might not be able to.

His smile faltered, though, as he looked again at Geoff’s pallid face, felt his life ebbing slowly away through the bond, and realised that it hardly mattered now. If things went wrong here, if they couldn’t _fix_ this - none of that would fucking matter because they would have run out of time.

“And your men?” Geoff asked, and Michael jolted back to attention - only to register the question, and be hit by another wave of upset. He looked away.

“Eight dead,” he said, softly. He saw Geoff’s face twist in sympathy, and let out a huff of breath.

“We lose people all the time,” he continued. “But… rarely all at once like that, unless it’s during a war.”

“I’m sorry,” Geoff replied, and Michael could tell he meant it sincerely - could tell that he understood. “Jack told me about the Plains’ losses. It feels so pointless, in a way - you’re right, this isn’t a war, not really. We have no definite enemy, we have no idea what this fucking portal is or where it’s come from. But we can take comfort from the fact that these soldiers died protecting _everybody_ , in every kingdom. This is bigger than any individual or state’s cause.”

“I know,” Michael agreed, “But it’s… it’s hard realising you’re just never gonna see them again. You know? We work in small groups in the Alps, usually - I knew all of them, grew up training with them. I guess I should be used to it by now. After all, my parents died, and I’ve lost warriors before. But with every person, it’s… it’s _different_ , in some way. A different connection gone…”

He trailed off, swallowing the lump that’d risen in his throat suddenly as he realised that for all he knew, Geoff could well be gone soon, too. It was stupid, because they hadn’t even spent all that much time together, yet suddenly the thought of losing the other man seemed terrible. Like it would hit him just as hard as anyone else. Perhaps because he’d looked up to Geoff for so long, and when he did meet the other man, they’d gotten along so well - he didn’t know what he’d do without him.

He must’ve looked upset, because Geoff’s face crumpled a little. He lifted a shaking hand and wrapped it around the back of Michael’s neck, tugging him in until their foreheads were pressed together. Geoff was far too warm, his brow hot with fever - but warm meant _alive_ , and Michael took comfort in that, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the swell of magic from the bond wash over them, catching both of them in some heated mixture of pain, fear worry - but caring, and concern, and _affection_ , under that.

When they pulled back, their eyes met. Geoff’s gaze was dizzy and unfocused, but after a moment he managed to lock onto Michael’s, and gave a small smile.

“Where are the others?”

His voice was quite weak by now, and Michael’s heart clenched, but he forced a smile in return.

“Ryan’s gone to the Stoneworld to work on a cure for you, so you’d better hold on a bit longer, old man,” he said, and Geoff laughed again, as much as he was able to. “I haven’t seen Gavin in a bit - I’m not sure where he is. Probably organising things around here. Ray was in the infirmary with his men before.”

Geoff nodded, but Michael wasn’t sure if he’d even been listening. He was gazing away now, tiredly, and Michael reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll send Jack back in?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Geoff replied, vaguely. “Yeah, I… I think I should rest. Getting tired now.”

Michael nodded. He gently helped Geoff lie back down - as he moved, Geoff let out a hiss, face going tight with pain. Michael could feel it, a sickening, toxic shock through the bond.

“Sorry,” Geoff said, seeing him flinch.

“It’s fine,” Michael replied, and bit his lip. “I’ll go get Jack.”

Geoff didn’t reply, his eyes already slipping shut. Michael squeezed his hand and rose. His chest was tight as he hurried out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Night had fallen, and if Michael had wanted to grab some sleep, now would have been the time - there was nothing else productive he could be doing. But he felt far too upset to even think about resting, Geoff’s condition a constant, unsettling thought at the back of his head. He wanted Ray, and went to find him.

Now that they’d made up, it was so much easier being around the other man. It was funny, how naturally they’d slipped back into the routine of things - like they’d never left off. If anything, Michael felt closer to Ray now that he’d realised exactly how much he needed him.

As he wandered the castle, looking for him, he remembered what Ray had told him about how he saved Gavin and Ryan. He could imagine it - the incredible vines shooting from the ground, thick with the red-tipped, dangerous looking thorns that Ray always sprouted when he was angry or upset about something. The thrill of magic in the air and the sheer power that must’ve emanated from the Desert king.

He’d never known Ray could use his gift like that, but the times he had seen him growing things, it’d always been amazing. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have a gift like Ray’s, or Ryan’s - to be able to _create_ something from scratch.

He wished he could’ve seen it.

Ray wasn’t in the infirmary anymore, but Barbara was, and pointed him to the gardens behind the castle. Michael slipped out into the quiet, cold night. The temperature had dropped, and there was a chill in the air. There was something ghostly and ominous to the gardens at this hour - the tangled, dark Wild beyond the castle wall, the draugr standing sentry atop it. Piles of rock to be used for later construction stood like gravestones around the grassy space.

But there was Ray, standing in the small, fenced-off herb garden, surrounded by plants. Like everything here, the Wild’s magic had boosted their growth, and they were waist-high in places. Ray moved like a shadow, trailing a hand along the plants gently as he passed through them, and Michael paused, watching him.

Under the blue moonlight, a funny stillness seemed to hang over everything. Ray looked different, somehow. He was just wearing a simple, dark jacket, no robes or cloak or crown, but there was something majestic to how he stood there, a solitary figure, Michael’s gaze trailing over the sharp line of his jaw as he looked up at the sky.

As he watched, Ray suddenly gathered himself, and then stretched his arms out. Before Michael’s eyes, the herb garden thickened and blossomed as the plants, which had been picked nearly clean before as injuries poured in after the battle, replenished themselves under his touch.

The sight nearly took Michael’s breath away. He knew Ray was exhausted, had already overtaxed his gift before - but he stood tall now, clearly in his element, something regal to his silence.

Things always looked different at night. But standing here watching him, the realisation struck Michael suddenly that Ray was someone else, now. A powerful king, not just his childhood friend. For so long it’d been hard to see him as anyone other than the boy who Michael had run and played with - but they’d both grown up, and for the first time it suddenly hit him that _both_ of them were no longer those children. Something swelled up in his chest, and his fists clenched, nearly overwhelmed.

Ray turned - and froze as he saw Michael, arms lowering to his sides.

Michael swallowed, and took a deep breath as he walked over to him. Nerves were fluttering in his stomach, and he wasn’t quite sure of himself - but he pushed it aside, and moved up to Ray. This close he could see the dark shadows under the other man’s eyes, the faint tremor in his hands, but he still smiled when Michael approached.

“Hey,” Michael said, a bit awkwardly.

“Hey,” Ray replied, softly. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, sorry for freaking out before,” Michael said. He felt bad, remembering how he’d gotten so _angry_ \- that hadn’t been productive for anyone, but he couldn’t help it. When he realised how badly Geoff was injured, he’d just felt so helpless. It’d been horrible, realising there were some things you couldn’t fight - couldn’t defeat with your own strength.

“It’s understandable,” Ray murmured, reaching out and squeezing his arm. “I probably would’ve been the same if it was me who was there when Geoff got hurt.”

His hand rubbed Michael’s arm, soothingly, and Michael closed his eyes for a moment before looking around. The ground smelt lush and fertile, the fragrance of the herbs strong and soothing in the air.

“You’re incredible, you know,” he blurted out.

Ray let out a startled, bashful laugh.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he replied. His voice was soft and a little awkward, and Michael turned back to him, staring at him intently.

“Why not?” he demanded. “It’s true.”

Ray’s lips twitched.

“Yeah,” he said. “But when it comes from you… Michael.” He laughed again, seeming almost embarrassed as he said, “I’m trying to get over you.”

Michael swallowed, hard. The words sent a lump rising in his throat. He thought he knew why.

“How’s that going?” he asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” Ray admitted.

Michael could only look at him. His heart was pounding now, his stomach clenching with something too much like fear. Was this how Ray had felt, when they decided to get married - when he’d accidentally admitted his feelings - when he’d shot that arrow during the games?

That swell in his chest when Michael looked at him, the surge that shot through him that he _knew,_ now, wasn’t just magic, wasn’t just the bond - that wasn’t something he felt with his warriors, as close as they were, or anyone else he considered a friend. Maybe, for too long, it’d just been hard to recognise it for what he now knew it was.

“What if,” he began, slowly, “You didn’t have to?”

Ray went very still. His hand fell from Michael’s arm, and his eyes widened.

“What are you saying?” he whispered.

Michael swallowed. It took him a moment to get the words out, but once he did they wouldn’t stop coming.

“We might lose Geoff,” he said. “I hate it, but it’s true. And when you fell, Ray, the other day… I can’t lose you, I just _can’t_ , I… it didn’t hit me until then. For so long I saw you as my brother, as the boy I grew up with. But we’re older now, and things are different. Things _feel_ different. I guess they just changed so slowly that I didn’t realise until now.”

He could see how fast Ray was breathing - could feel, trickling through the bond, his nerves, excitement, _hope_.

“I don’t know where to begin with this,” Michael continued, voice shaking a little. “Or… or what to say, or where we should go from here. But I think… I think I...”

He trailed off, uncertain. Ray’s eyes were huge and shining, and Michael couldn’t help but think how beautiful he looked, here under the moonlight, even with his beard a little overgrown, and a scratch across his cheek where he’d scuffed himself climbing through the trees.

Michael stared earnestly back at him. He hoped Ray knew he was honest - that he wouldn’t say this, lead him on, if he didn’t believe it.

After a moment, Ray looked away and _laughed_ , startled and awkward.

“I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that,” he began. “Now that you have, I don’t even fucking know how to react.”

“How could you be so unprepared?” Michael teased, shaking his head. “Absolutely shameful, Ray. A king should know better.”

Ray laughed again, a bit hysterically. He rubbed his hands over his face, and Michael bit his lip.

“Like I said,” he continued, halting and uncertain again. “I… I don’t know where to start with this, but-”

He broke off as Ray laid a hand on his cheek, cupping his face gently. There was a fond smile on his face, and Michael fell silent, breathless.

“We’ll take it slow?” Ray suggested. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Not too slow,” Michael replied immediately - because they _didn’t_ have time to waste, he’d seen that all too clearly. And then, on impulse, and because Ray was so _close_ , and he wanted to see where this took them-

He leaned in and kissed him. Ray made a muffled noise of surprise, what sounded far too close to another _laugh_ \- then shifted his hand to the back of Michael’s neck and tugged him in closer, his other hand resting on Michael’s waist, their chests pressed close.

There was something familiar, almost practiced to it - to how he knew the way Ray would angle his head, how the other man’s body felt in his arms as Michael tangled his fingers in his hair and ran a hand down his back. They’d kissed many times before, after all.

But not like this, not for real. For real was different - for real was amazing, charged with something new that sent a tingle down Michael’s spine and made his heart hammer frantically against his ribs. He thought maybe this was how it felt for Ryan to create redstone; a spark, something magic to it, the sensation of something suddenly lighting up and everything being charged with some exceptional power.

When they pulled apart, Michael’s head was thrumming, but he froze as he realised Ray looked almost upset.

“Shit,” he said, suddenly frightened that he’d done something wrong, moved too fast, that this wasn’t _wanted_. “Did I-”

“No,” Ray said, right away, reaching up and pressing a finger to Michael’s lips. He gave a small laugh, and Michael realised with relief, that he looked emotional, but not unhappy. “No, this is good. This is… really, really good.”

Michael grinned, and tugged him into a hug. Ray’s arms wound tightly around his waist, his face buried in Michael’s shoulder. For the first time that day Michael found himself smiling properly, comforted by the presence of his best friend, his fellow king, the man he was pretty sure he _loved_. And it wouldn’t make this whole big mess go away, but it was nice, especially now, to have one good thing.

 

* * *

 

There were no Wither around as Gavin scuttled silently into the clearing. He’d kept to the trees - Egg was fast, and nimble, and it was easy to travel unseen even in the difficult terrain of the Wild.

He trusted the spider’s instincts more than the creepers’, and she couldn’t sense anything around. Still - he kept off the dirt, now that he knew how the Wither hid. From the overhanging branches of the trees, Egg lowered herself on a long, silky thread directly into the staircase of the basement, without once touching the ground.

Gavin’s heart was pounding, but not from the potential danger. Every beat of his own pulse only made him more aware of how his bond with Geoff throbbed painfully like an open wound, loose and ready to fall away.

Still - in the dark, and alone, the basement was unsettling, and he moved in the dark, too nervous to light a torch and give his position away. He saw through Egg’s eyes instead, letting her senses guide him down the stairs.

The portal room was devoid of life. It seemed less threatening now that it was deactivated. The floor was caked with black dust and blood - three Endermen lay crumpled on their floor, their massive forms limp like slumbering, dark giants. There were two Alpine warriors, too, Gavin’s heart clenching as he noticed them. It had been too hectic before to retrieve all the bodies. He’d meant to send mobs for them in the morning.

_The Eyes of Ender_ , he thought - Egg twitched as he cast the item into her mind, the knowledge of how they’d felt to hold, burning with magic. She scuttled around the room, searching more efficiently than Gavin ever could have, and paused behind the portal.

“Bingo,” Gavin murmured, as he walked over.

The Eyes lay beside one of the fallen Endermen, one of them still grasped in its massive hand. Gavin gathered them up and took a deep breath before walking up the stairs.

This was probably a very, very bad idea.

People had died to close this portal, and here he was about to bloody well open it again. But the voice - the voice haunted him. Something, some _one_ , was on the other side. Someone they could communicate with.

Someone who might have the answers they needed.

Footsteps rang out on the stairs, but he didn’t turn or flinch. It was the Endermen he’d summoned as he’d left the castle, ordering them from a respawn point nearby to meet him at the portal. The second anything tried to emerge, he’d pull the Eyes. He wasn’t stupid.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, but his hands were shaking as he slotted the Eyes into the portal’s cavities.

It came to life in a silent instant. No fanfare, no noise - just that darkness, back in a blink. The Eyes around the frame glowed slightly, filling the room with an eerie violet light. At least he could see now.

He cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward, scared even - but the Wither might be able to sense the portal opening, and he had no time to waste.

“Hello?” he called out.

Silence.

For a long moment he waited, feeling rather silly standing here alone talking to nothing.

But then, so suddenly he nearly jumped out of his skin, that roaring whisper spoke to him again.

“ _So you return_.”

“Yeah, sorry about before. Time sensitive mission and all that - it was a bit hard to hold a conversation when your minions were coming to kill me.”

He tried to cover his fear with joviality, but the voice didn’t seem fooled.

“ _Yet here you are, back again. You want something, don’t you?”_

“You mentioned a deal.”

“ _Not so fast_ ,” the voice said. It sounded suspicious, and the clear emotion only confused Gavin more. This was some sentient being, then, with feelings like any other human - yet who? Where? _What_? Even the witches couldn’t communicate like this.

_“You are not like the old king,”_ the voice said. “ _I can feel the rest of the crowned here with you. I can feel your bond. You work_ together _to stop me_. _Unless you have chosen to come here to turn on them._ ”

“What’s the deal?” Gavin asked, calmly, ignoring the rest.

“ _Untold riches_ ,” the voice said slowly. “ _All the gold you could want, in exchange for your assistance.”_

“Doing what?”

“ _Freeing me_ ,” the voice said. “ _And restoring the crowns to their rightful place_.”

Gavin was not stupid. He’d already suspected, and that was all the information he needed to put the pieces together.

“Midas,” he whispered - and felt a sudden thrum through the bond, a shockwave of recognition. It made his skin prickle, and his hair stand all on end.

“ _So you know me,”_ the voice intoned.

“I saw you in the Endermen’s memories.” An unease had settled over him. This was a bad idea - Midas had been so dangerous that no mortal prison could hold him. He was the cause of all this trouble.

Still. He had come here for a reason, so he swallowed his fear and lifted his chin.

“My friend was struck by your Wither. He’s dying.”

“ _How dreadfully unfortunate.”_

“I don’t care for your riches. Do you know how to cure him? There isn’t much time.”

Another silence. Not being able to see Midas was unnerving - Gavin couldn’t sense a reaction, or even tell if his words were getting through.

But then - a low chuckle.

“ _So this is why you summon me. Your friend - the Plains king?”_

“How did you know?”

“ _I can feel your bond. I am part of the tower too, after all_.” The words sent a chill down Gavin’s spine. There was something intrusive to this unseen presence, claiming to be privy to their most intimate connection - especially since it was a one-way street. Even standing so close to the portal, Gavin couldn’t feel _him._

“Well?” he demanded. “How can we heal him?”

He waited with baited breath - but Midas gave only a heavy sigh.

“ _I’ll not lie to you, Wildling,”_ he said. “ _There is no cure for the Wither.”_

_No._

It was what he’d been dreading, but though the words registered, Gavin couldn’t bring himself to believe them - to let them strike and shatter him. He held himself together tightly.

“I don’t believe you!” he shouted. “There’s a cure, there _has_ to be - what are those things? Draugr?”

“ _Citizens_ ,” Midas replied cryptically, but Gavin just shook his head, furious.

“Everything - _everything_ has a fix! You’re over there in that other world, aren’t you? You understand whatever magic this is - _help_ him-”

“ _I could lie,”_ Midas said _, “I could fool you, and give you pretty promises. But I tell you the truth, there is no cure! Your friend will die. Nothing can save him!”_

Gavin stood, staring into the nothingness of the portal until it filled his mind, drowned everything out. His chest heaved with shuddering breaths, his fists clenched so tight that his nails dug crescents into his callused palms. The darkness around him seemed drowning and absolute.

_It can’t be true._

The grief, the possibility of life _without_ , tore away at him like a tempest. A silent storm as he felt every hope, every grasping _need_ sweep away like shrapnel as the reality set in, as he tried frantically to seize them and hold them close, to _believe_ they could fix this, _believe_ it wasn’t true - as though the force of his desire could surge through the bond, and revive Geoff, reel him back to them, piece together that splintering shipwreck.

Midas kept speaking, but Gavin hardly noticed, the words catching on the winds of the storm, sweeping in and passing by, barely heard.

_“I can help you, though I cannot save him. There are other ways, but you must free me. The portal exists between worlds. Balance must be maintained - what is lost, given. Some talisman - are you wearing anything? A garment, or trinket - throw it in, and I can return to help you. Something special, it has to be - something with meaning. Are you listening, Wild king? Bring me back to your world and we can rule together. Your friend will die, but death merely means passing from this plane. There is much you don’t yet understand. The Nether-”_

Gavin’s head was spinning. He hated Midas’ rambling - it reminded him too much of what he’d thought of Ryan, during the games. Slippery and persuasive. Without a word, he had the Endermen, standing around the portal, rip out the Eyes - _all_ of them, the twelve slots emptying in a second.

Midas broke off, silenced, and Gavin’s shaky breaths became the only sound echoing in the stone chamber.

“Take the Eyes to the caves and hide them,” he ordered, his voice ragged and small.

He felt strange. Lost, almost. A war had swept through and ravaged him, but there was no outward sign, and here talking to no one but monsters, he felt very alone.

_Ryan will find something_ , was all he could tell himself now. _He found the portal. He found the way to let you read the Endermen’s minds. Midas is a liar, and Ryan will find something_.

 

* * *

 

Ryan felt uncharacteristically apprehensive as he returned to the castle, unwilling to go inside and see the others. If he went in, he’d have to admit to them that he was coming back empty-handed. He didn’t know what he was going to say.

There was just _nothing_. No record of an illness like this in any medical or scientific book. No similarity to any of the sections on draugr or zombie wounds. Nothing he could get from studying the Wither itself.

His stomach churned as he entered the castle.

He’d brought a doctor back with him - an older woman who might be able to come up with more than he had. After all, he was not medically trained, so perhaps he’d missed something - that _had_ to be it. She was the finest in the Stoneworld and had travelled through all the other kingdoms, studying, during his mother’s rule before returning to the Stone capital later on.

They entered the building in silence, Ryan’s nerves only growing as they headed down the corridor towards the room where Geoff lay. As they walked, Jack turned a corner - he was carrying a fresh bowl of water and a new washcloth, and paused as he saw them.

“Ryan!” he said, and his voice was so alight with _hope_ that Ryan could hardly bear it. “You’re back!”

Ryan took a deep breath before turning to face him.

“I just returned,” he replied, trying to keep his voice flat. The spider was very fast, but he’d been gone some hours.

“Did Gavin go with you?” Jack continued. Ryan could see him searching his face, trying to find answers - he felt helpless, unsure what to say or do.

“No,” he replied. “Why?”

“I just haven’t seen him around, no one has. I’m sure he’s fine,” Jack said, “There’s a hundred places in the castle he could be hiding. I know he’s upset. Who’s this?” he added, turning to the woman.

“A physician,” Ryan began, “The finest in the Stoneworld-”

He broke off. The doctor, after giving Jack a nod of greeting, had already marched down the hall and into the room where Geoff was. Ryan gave a little huff.

“I told her there was no time to waste,” he said, and Jack nodded, giving a small smile. “I’ll introduce you two in a minute - give her a moment to check him over first. Is he awake?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. He put the bowl down and ran his hands over his face. He looked exhausted, and Ryan knew he hadn’t slept all night. “He’s… alert, and responsive, but it doesn’t look good, Ryan. What did you find? Do you have something?”

There it was - the question he’d been dreading. Jack looked so eager, so hopeful. It broke Ryan’s heart.

“I…” Oh gods, why couldn’t he just be _honest_? “I’m still working on it.”

Once he might’ve been brutal, told Jack there was no hope, nothing he could do. Yet somehow, staring at him now, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Jack blinked a few times, seeming confused.

“But you’re making progress?” he asked, and Ryan nodded.

“I’m continuing to study the Wither,” he said. “With the doctor’s help, I think I can make more.”

It was a non-answer, and Jack wasn’t stupid. Ryan could see from the look on his face that he knew what Ryan was doing, what he wasn’t saying. But he didn’t argue, or question more - maybe he needed the comfort of not being told the harsh truth just yet.

Jack just sighed, and after a moment Ryan leaned back against the wall. He rubbed his aching side - he hadn’t had the chance to lie down and get some rest either, and the exhaustion plus a broken rib wasn’t doing him any favours. They waited out there in the corridor, and Ryan knew they were both hoping against hope that inside that room, the doctor was working some miracle.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Geoff died.

He could barely comprehend the thought, and when he did try to imagine it, it made his stomach clench and his hands shake. For a long time, he’d hated Geoff, and had thought he didn’t care what happened to him.

The games had somehow changed that. Seeing Gavin turn on Geoff, too, had set them on the same side. And Gavin’s betrayal had, to some degree, made Ryan think that maybe he himself really was a monster - how could anyone trust him? Maybe he shouldn’t hold it against Geoff.

But now, after working together… Geoff had made him laugh, and smile, and he couldn’t help starting to like him more. Not when he saw the way he interacted with his men, or his affection towards Jack. How he had _loved_ Gavin even if he’d never said it - how he took care of Michael and Ray.

Ryan didn’t want to lose him.

He’d mourned no other king’s loss. Not Michael’s father, or Ray’s parents, even when he felt it through the bond. But the thought of _Geoff_ being gone made something terrible and afraid strike deep inside him. He’d been terrified of killing his mother - he’d mourned her and missed her afterwards, and the fact that it’d been at his own hand only made it worse. Still - he’d gotten over it.

But Geoff was different.

He was a good king, a good leader, and an integral part of their bond. All five of them held each other together, balanced each other out in a way he could remember no other kings or queens doing. Jack and Gavin had both spoken of working together - for the first time, Ryan almost believed it might happen. After all, he had to admit that even Gavin had made some incredible progress here in the Wild.

But Geoff, oh, Geoff - how would it work without him? For all his flaws and downfalls, he was important to _all_ of them, to every kingdom. Leader, solder, king.

Ryan closed his eyes, overwhelmed. The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders, made him feel even more exhausted.

He had to save him.

But he had no idea how.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll talk to you outside,” the doctor said, when Ryan and Jack finally entered the room. Her voice was perfectly calm, her face neutral as she packed up her kit - but somehow Ryan could tell that the news wasn’t good. “Take a minute with him first.”

Jack was already moving to sit on the bed again. And there was Geoff, groggy, but _awake_. It was a relief to see him moving, Ryan thought - even if his face was white and his bloodshot eyes ringed with dark, bruise-like smudges. He was glad the wound was covered - he’d been to the infirmary to visit the other soldiers who’d been struck, and as the black poison spread, it wasn’t pretty.

“She poked me in so many places,” Geoff croaked, as the doctor left. His voice was a rasping whisper, so weak that Ryan had to move closer just to hear it.

Jack laughed, but his eyes were glistening, and the way he looked at Geoff made Ryan’s heart ache. It was the sort of laugh that people gave when bidding someone farewell, off on a long journey or to war - genuine, but also covering how upset you were as you realised just how fucking much you were gonna miss that person once they were gone.

“I mean it,” Geoff insisted. “It fucking hurt. Hi Ryan,” he added. He couldn’t sit up, but his eyes moved to meet Ryan’s as he inched further into the room. “Heard you went back to the Stoneworld.”

“I rode one of Gavin’s giant spiders,” Ryan replied. “It was hairier than any creature has a right to be.”

Geoff made a horrified, groaning noise, and Ryan’s lips twitched.

“Yes, that was also my reaction. I must admit, though, they are very efficient and useful for this terrain. Definitely more suitable than horses.”

“Nah, they’re fucking gross,” Geoff replied, and Ryan gave a proper smile.

“I’m inclined to agree.”

Geoff was beckoning him with one twitching finger, and Ryan moved right up to the bed. Geoff stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes, and Ryan swallowed, trying to cover the lump that’d risen in his throat. Jack seemed lost in a daze, Geoff pulled up against his lap as he stroked his hair.

“How do you feel?” Ryan asked. It came out far softer and gentler than he ever usually said anything, but neither of them commented. Geoff just met his eyes, and Ryan froze as he realised, in the look there, that Geoff knew exactly how bad his condition was.

“You know how I feel,” he croaked, and Ryan bit his lip. The bond was weak and hazy with pain. He could only nod.

No words really needed to be said. They fell into silence. There was Jack, tenderly wiping at Geoff’s brow, one hand rubbing his arm soothingly. Geoff relaxed into his touch, and after a moment reached up with one weak hand and gripped at his arm, holding tight. It made Ryan ache even more to see the two of them together. To think of what was going to happen.

“We are working on a solution,” he said finally, when he could bear the silence no longer. “At least the portal’s closed. Even so, we’ll search the jungle for the rest of the Wither and wipe them out, then set about destroying the base of the portal entirely. But our priority is healing you and the other soldiers who were injured.”

Geoff’s eyes, which had slipped shut, opened again.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Ryan inclined his head, but Geoff continued, something desperate and earnest to how he forced the words out, even if his voice was weak.

“No, I mean it. This… this whole time you’ve pulled this operation together. Led the way, helped us make the most progress. You’re a good king, Ryan. And I was wrong about you, about a lot of things. I’m sorry.”

There was no energy in his voice, no space for him to be lying. It was entirely sincere, and something seized in Ryan’s chest. He’d once thought that he’d never accept an apology, even if it came. Now it only made him hurt more as he realised that whatever friendship could’ve been between them, whatever alliance, it was too late.

Still. The words meant a lot, and he reached out on an impulse and took Geoff’s other hand. It was so warm with fever that it nearly burned to touch, but he squeezed it gently.

“It’s fine,” he murmured back. “I understand why people think that way about me.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Geoff replied.

“I was wrong about you, too,” Ryan found himself admitting. “I antagonised you during the games. It was… childish.”

Geoff’s lips twitched into a small smile. His eyes had closed, but his grip on Ryan’s hand was still strong.

“Our kingdoms are stronger together,” he said, and Ryan saw Jack catch his breath.

“I agree,” he replied, and met Jack’s eyes. They were shining, and while he looked happy, Ryan knew he was thinking it was too late as well. But he gave a small smile  when their gazes met, and Ryan smiled back.

Geoff squeezed his hand, and Ryan’s chest felt tight. He felt awkward, unsure of himself and how close he suddenly felt to the other man - and even more upset about the thought of losing him.

They sat for a moment, then Ryan rose.

“I will let you rest,” he said. “The doctor wants to talk to us.”

“Jack, stay a moment,” Geoff said immediately, when Jack started to get up too. Jack opened his mouth, but Geoff caught weakly at his sleeve. “Ryan can tell you whatever the physician says later. Just until I fall asleep?”

There was a plea in the words - something almost scared - and Ryan saw Jack have to take a moment to gather himself. To catch his breath and force a smile and make it look like he wasn’t about to cry.

“Of course,” he said, and sat back down. Ryan couldn’t bear to stay, and hurried out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

It took him a moment to collect himself, breathing heavily and squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, the physician was standing in front of him, a serious look on her face.

“That man,” she said, quietly but firmly, “Is dying.”

“You need to save him,” Ryan replied, his voice tight and flat, but she was already shaking her head.

“I’ve worked in every kingdom, treated thousands of patients, and I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s not quite poison - more like the life is being drained from him slowly. Soon his organs will fail and-”

“Don’t,” Ryan choked out, abruptly, surprising even himself with how desperate he sounded.

“King Haywood.” Her voice was kind, but stern. He respected, at least, that she wasn’t giving him false hope. “He is _going to die_. I can make him comfortable, give him medicines to ease the pain, but right now there is nothing we can do to stop it spreading. We simply don’t have enough time. I will work with you, of course we’ll _try_ , but I can see right now that it’s too severe. He hasn’t got long left.”

Ryan swallowed hard. He was starting to feel numb now, as realisation and dreaded acceptance set in. He gave a curt nod.

“Thank you for your time,” he replied, quietly. “Please, make yourself comfortable here. You met Griffon earlier - you can work with her as soon as you’re ready.”

Her eyes were gentle and understanding.

“Would you like me to explain the situation to Jack?” she offered.

“Please,” Ryan replied. He didn’t think he could bear to be the one to break the news.

She bowed, and Ryan turned and left as fast as he could.

He was glad to get outside into the fresh air. The castle felt oppressive, heavy with illness and dread, and the cool dawn air was a relief. The place seemed empty, all the mobs either on patrol or returning from respawn points, and without the sound of construction everything was ominously silent.

He took deep breaths, trying to compose himself, and failing. He felt shakier than ever.

_Come on, come on_. He clenched his fists tightly. _This is affecting you too much. This is why you don’t get_ close.

Except it wasn’t - Geoff hadn’t betrayed him, not now. This was not what he’d ever thought he’d have to be afraid of. The helplessness was terrible, something he wasn’t used to and loathed. But though it rose from caring too much, caring in a way he usually didn’t let himself, it was different from being turned against. Somehow it hurt even more.

There was movement at the front gate, and he spun around, hand going to his sword - but it was Gavin who arrived, springing right over the wall on another giant spider. Ryan relaxed, but couldn’t help feeling confused.

It was very late - nearly morning. What had he been doing outside the walls alone?

He walked over, just as Gavin lowered himself from the spider and paused, one hand pressed to its flank. His head was down, and there was something dazed to the way he stood, seeming lost.

“Gavin,” Ryan said, and Gavin jumped, looking up. His face was frighteningly blank. “Where have you been?”

Gavin stared at him for a moment before seeming to come back to himself.

“You’re back,” he said instead, and then, frantically, “Have you got anything?”

The look on Ryan’s face must’ve been answer enough. He saw the moment Gavin realised he hadn’t found a cure. Though he gave little outward indication, something in his eyes seemed to break. Like he’d shattered inside and what was left was only a shell. It was horrible to witness, especially because he just _stood there_ , staring at Ryan like a lifeless doll.

“I’ve brought a doctor,” Ryan began, just because he needed to say _something._ “We’re working on it-”

“There’s no cure.” Gavin’s voice was as flat and empty as the look on his face. “There’s nothing we can do.”

The words stopped Ryan short. They were so helpless, so _certain._

“You don’t know that,” he began, but Gavin barrelled on.

“Midas told me.”

“What?”

“He’s living on the other side of the portal.” Gavin said it as matter-of-factly as if he was telling Ryan about the weather. “When I went close to it, he spoke to me. I heard his voice. He can speak through it, and feel our bond. I went back to ask him for answers-”

Dear gods, what was going _on_ here? Shock, then anger poured through Ryan. Fear for Gavin, at the thought of him going out and undertaking such a mission alone - alarm at the thought of what might’ve happened. Before he knew it he was reaching out and seizing Gavin by the shoulders.

“What the _fuck_ , Gavin? You _opened it_ again?”

He shook him roughly, furious out of _fear_ , but Gavin didn’t bother to resist. He was limp in Ryan’s hands, like a ragdoll - not pushing him away, not snapping like he had before. Just frighteningly devoid of _anything_.

“I closed it,” he replied, voice still quiet and flat. “Don’t worry. Nothing came through. But he spoke to me again, and he told me there’s no cure.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ryan demanded - he could only think that Geoff was already injured, and on his own Gavin might’ve been too. “You shouldn’t have gone out there alone!”

Gavin just gave a miserable shrug.

“There’s nothing,” he repeated, nearly a whisper. “Midas would know. He lives over where the Wither came from.”

Ryan stared at him. He remembered what Gavin had told them about seeing Midas cast into the portal through the Endermen’s eyes, but he’d never imagined the Gold King might still be alive on the other side. This was a shocking turn of events, and he wasn’t sure what to think.

“You encountered no Wither out there?” he asked, instead, and Gavin shook his head.

“I think we killed most of them,” he replied, dully. “With the portal closed, no more can come through. I hid the Eyes so they can’t open it up again. But what does it matter? Geoff…”

He trailed off, something hopeless in his face, gazing just over Ryan’s shoulder at nothing. Finally, he shook himself.

“I need to go wash up,” he muttered, and Ryan realised how tired he looked, how he was still covered in grime, black dust and what was probably Ryan’s own blood from the battle.

“Gavin,” he said, and caught Gavin’s arm as he tried to leave. Gavin came to a halt - once again, he didn’t seem to care, not bothering to even shake Ryan off.

Ryan swallowed. Somehow Gavin’s lifelessness was even harder to deal with than Jack’s grief. Still - even if Gavin didn’t think so, what he’d just told Ryan was _some_ sort of lead.

“I need you to tell me everything Midas said to you,” he ordered. “Every single thing.”

“Yes, Ryan,” Gavin replied, tiredly. “I will. But later, I’m…”

Again, he fell silent. Ryan let him go, only to touch his shoulder, more gently.

“Geoff is awake,” he said. “You should visit him.”

Gavin’s shoulders stiffened. He was facing away from Ryan, staring away, but Ryan saw his jaw tighten.

“I don’t think he’d want to see me,” he replied, voice tight.

“The doctor was just in there,” Ryan explained, and bit his lip. “He doesn’t have much time, Gavin. You _need_ to visit him.”  
  
Gavin cast him a small, frightened glance. The look on his face - pain, hesitation, _fear_ \- broke Ryan’s heart. But he let his hand fall, and after a moment Gavin swallowed and walked away without replying.

He took a deep breath as he watched Gavin head into the building, feet dragging, shoulders slumped. Everything hurt - but, he told himself, there was something new to work with, now. Midas was on the other side of the portal, and maybe Gavin had missed something to do with him that they could use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O BOY IS THERE FANART THIS WEEK
> 
> justisaisfine drew this [absolutely incredible geovin comic](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149482887544/justisaisfine-this-is-a-surprise-project-for) <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH
> 
> darkkkun drew [Wild King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149555252139/darkkkun-gavin-circus-boy-creeper-boy) \- thank you, it's fantastic! :')
> 
> I made a [map for the story.](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149534025289/tenlittle-cockbites-i-just-used-inkarnate-to-make)
> 
> I've finished writing the entire thing - updates will now be Wednesday + Saturday Australia time :'D


	14. Chapter 14

Geoff drifted in and out of consciousness. He was too hot - the room felt like a sauna, and the fire crackling a little distance away felt more like a blazing inferno, but he couldn’t so much as muster the strength to push the blankets off himself. The fever had him achy and his mind sluggish, like his head was filled with cotton wool. All he wanted was a moment of clarity. Even the magic of the bond felt like it’d been plunged into murky water, everything blurring together until he struggled to make anything out.

He wasn’t quite aware enough to gather his strength and do anything. But he still had enough presence of mind to know what was going on here.

He was afraid.

He knew he was going to die, and he was fucking terrified - yet, at the same time, too weak to let that overwhelm him. It remained a constant, dull unease that he tried not to dwell on, but in his fevered state his mind sometimes fell back towards it and he’d get nightmarish flashes of uncertainty, wondering what would happen. What he’d see, feel. If there would be some afterlife waiting for him - or if there’d just be _nothing_. He wasn’t sure which possibility was more frightening.

Gods, he didn’t want to die.

He wasn’t ready yet - none of them were - he couldn’t stand to think about what would happen to Jack once he was gone. How much the other man would’ve lost, between himself and Gavin. He didn’t want to die, but he barely had the energy left to struggle.

Still. What little strength he had, he kept to stop himself panicking. He couldn’t let himself be overwhelmed - had to make sure the others stayed calm. That he prepared them for this as well as he could.

He closed his eyes, the blankets still stifling over him. It hurt to breathe, a little. The room was empty but even just the crackle of the fire seemed deafening in his haze of pain.

Jack was outside with the doctor. He knew what she must be saying to him - it’d been pretty clear when she inspected him that there wasn’t any hope of recovery. He was worried about what Jack’s reaction would be, and was selfishly glad that he didn’t have to see it first hand. But he was dreading Jack walking back into this room. If he cried, or… or broke down, Geoff didn’t know what he’d do.

He could feel everything failing - his mind growing sluggish, every beat of his heart seeming an effort. It wouldn’t be long now. Gods help him - what was on the other side? He didn’t want to think about it.

_Jack._ He focused on that instead, trying to let it calm him - but it didn’t work. All he could think about was the other man alone, alone, alone after he was gone. This wouldn’t break him, but it would hurt him so deeply that Geoff couldn’t bear to think about it.

Suddenly, one strand of the crown bond strengthened, enough that it broke through his fevered haze and grounded him a bit. The soothing tingle of magic overtook his body, drowning out the pain for a moment.

He knew that meant Gavin.

Since they got here it would’ve been impossible for him not to realise that for whatever reason, the Wild king flared stronger than any of the others on the bond. He could constantly feel the other man even if he didn’t want to.

Sure enough, a moment later Gavin slipped silently into the room. There was something tentative to his movements - to the way he avoided so much as looking over at the bed, concentrating on shutting the door behind him and then fisting his hands nervously in the ends of his sleeves. When he finally glanced over and found Geoff lying with his head turned, watching him, he froze.

“Oh,” he said. His voice was so soft Geoff could barely hear it. “You’re awake.”

Geoff couldn’t help it - he felt something warm swell in his chest. He’d been worried Gavin wouldn’t come, but had been too scared to ask Jack for him. In this time of pain and fear and stress, it was a sudden relief to see the other man, and he found himself smiling.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he replied.

Gavin’s eyes widened. He crept towards the bed, still twisting his shirt nervously in his fists. His hair was damp and flat, like he’d just bathed, and he looked so tired that it made Geoff’s heart ache. As he walked over he didn’t look like a king - he just looked small, and scared.

How could Geoff still be angry with him, now?

In the forest, when they’d run off together, he’d been scared, and the fear had made him angry. Had led him to lash out at the other man. But now, as he lay here fucking _dying_ , there was far more to be afraid of than a few hurt feelings. He had no time to hold onto the past any more.

“How are you feeling?” Gavin whispered, staring down at him, something desperate in his eyes.

“Like shit,” Geoff replied, and felt bad when Gavin’s face fell. “But it’s mostly numb, now.”

It was true, there was an aching cold in his side where the wound was, but otherwise it didn’t burn like it had before. Still, the numbness was worrying, especially as it began to spread, slowly paralysing him.

“Is that a good thing?” Gavin asked - Geoff gave him a gentle look, and Gavin looked away, biting his lip, realising the answer. “Pain means you’re alive.”

Geoff didn’t know what to say. Gavin was staring at him, something vacantly horrified in his gaze. Geoff knew he must look terrible by now - pale and clammy, eyes surrounded by dark circles - after a moment Gavin wrenched his gaze away and slumped down on the floor by the bed so suddenly that Geoff nearly thought he’d collapsed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them, reaching up to pull at his hair. From his angle on the bed Geoff could only just see him - his bony wrists and calloused hands. Gavin let out a groan and when he dropped his hand Geoff’s heart clenched at how gaunt and tired he looked.

He swallowed - it was hard even mustering the energy to do that - and tried his best to keep his voice lively as he said, “This creeper skin shit is warm. I can see why you like your scarf so much.” He shifted under the blankets as best he could - Gavin had looked up, surprised at the change in topic, and Geoff added, “So what did you find? About your parents?”

There was a long silence. Geoff wished he could turn to look at Gavin properly. After a moment, the other man swallowed.

“You… you don’t care about that,” he said, hesitantly.

“Yes I do.” Geoff’s voice was weak, but he knew Gavin was hanging onto every word. “It’s important to you. So I care.”

Another pause. Geoff waited, patiently. He was glad when Gavin finally sat up and they could look at each other face to face again. There was something terribly upset in Gavin’s eyes.

“You hate me,” he croaked out, and a lump rose in Geoff’s throat at the sheer despair in his voice.

“No, I don’t,” he replied, his own voice thick. “Gavin, I’m not gonna do this to you right now. Let’s just _stop_ , okay? Let’s stop pretending. I’m as much to blame for everything that happened as you are. I’ve seen that for a long time, I just wouldn’t admit it. I’m sorry.”

Gavin stared at him. Disbelieving, then almost hopeful - then, as he seemed to register just how this had all come too _late_ , his face suddenly crumpled. Two wretched sobs heaved from his throat as for a moment, his precarious control collapsed and he started to cry.

Geoff’s stomach dropped. He had never seen Gavin so openly upset. The younger man had always had such a facade of strength - even at times when Geoff knew he was sad, or angry he’d still resolutely kept grinning and cracking jokes. He knew it was because he didn’t like to look weak - because for so long he’d never trusted anyone enough to be vulnerable around them.

But now all the walls had come down, and for a moment he just looked so _broken_. Geoff’s heart sank - even though the haze of illness and fever, he could only feel terrible for Gavin. Wanted more than anything to stop whatever was hurting him so much, to protect and comfort him.

“Stop,” he croaked out, and managed the strength to lift a heavy hand and lay it on Gavin’s arm. “Stop, shhh, shhh… Gav, don’t.”

“Sorry,” Gavin whispered, and with great effort wrestled himself under control, sniffing hard and reaching up to wipe his tears away. Somehow it was even harder to see him trying to push it all back, but after a moment Gavin took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, more deliberately now. His voice was quiet and hoarse and so very, very tired, but Geoff knew he meant every word. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I didn’t want to. I missed you so much these last eight months. I… I built all this, but it was never the same without you there. And I’m proud of it, I’m proud of what I’ve made, but I just… I wish it hadn’t been at the expense of our relationship.”

Geoff could only give a small smile. He’d tried so hard to stay annoyed with Gavin before, but now he didn’t pretend any longer, and he couldn’t help but be glad to hear him finally standing up for himself, even under his apology. Before he’d seen it as spite, but now there was something admirable to his defiance - especially because, under it, Geoff could see he was being honest. See that this had hurt him, too. That he hadn’t been deliberately _trying_ to hurt them.

“I’m proud of you too,” he admitted. “You’ve done more than I  ever imagined. I’m sorry I never saw, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to understand. I have my excuses, yes - the kingdom, the crown, my duty to serve my people first. But you’re important to me, Gavin - as important  as any of that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about you, or finding your parents - but I’m sorry if it seemed that way, I can see how it must have.”

“You’re a king,”  Gavin replied. “I see that now. I suppose part of me was just being selfish. I know you have to juggle between your responsibilities and the people you care about. That can’t be easy.”

“Now we both see,” Geoff  agreed, and it was a heavy weight off his shoulders just to have talked this out, for them both to finally _understand_. Just something as simple as saying it out loud, having it acknowledged, made all the resentment melt away.

“Come here,” he said, and Gavin moved in immediately.

It was hard to embrace with Geoff lying down, and barely able to move - with his side so numb and his injuries so severe. Gavin seemed terrified of hurting him, and their hug was careful and a bit awkward. But still - it was a _relief_ to feel him close again, for Geoff to - mustering all his strength - bring his arms up and wrap them around Gavin’s neck, pulling him as close as he dared. He could feel the other man breathing, shakily - the small damp patch where his tears soaked into Geoff’s shirt. It was different to hugging Jack; Gavin was all lean, corded muscle and bone - but familiar and intimate nonetheless, and Geoff felt the warmth of magic in his chest swell and soothe him, seeming for a moment to boost his ailing heart.

The top of Gavin’s head was just under his chin, and he bent to press a kiss to his hair. As Gavin pulled back, Geoff stared up at him, revelling in how _close_ they were - let his hand slip to the other man’s cheek, cupping it gently.

“I missed you,” he murmured. His thumb stroked the faint scars across Gavin’s cheek. “Look at you. Royalty suits you.”

He meant it. It’d been a shock at first, how different Gavin had been - but seeing him lead his people, seeing him guide them through the Wild, use his gift in so many different ways, so fearlessly tackle this new threat - as soon as Geoff had let himself admire it, it’d become nothing but obvious that of everyone who could get used to the Wild, who could start to reshape it, who could _belong_ here - Gavin was a better choice than Geoff would’ve ever been.

Gavin’s lips twitched. His eyes were glistening, but he managed a smile.

“You should’ve married me into it while you had the chance,” he replied, and Geoff gave a hoarse laugh. He stroked Gavin’s cheek before his hand finally fell back down to his side, exhausted, his muscles aching and unable to hold it up any longer.

Gavin looked away, but didn’t leave the bedside.

“My parents,” he began, tentatively - Geoff watched patiently, and after a moment Gavin took a deep breath, and continued. “Ray was telling me there was a big civil war between the bandit groups in the Wild. I think they must’ve been involved in that somehow. The scarf was made by the Wild ruler, I’m not sure if they were my parents or just a friend. But I was born here - that’s why my magic is so strong. I’m a witch, that’s how they get their powers, if that’s what you want to call them.”

He trailed off awkwardly, darting little glances at Geoff, uncertain of his reaction. Geoff couldn’t blame him. Witches weren’t exactly welcome in the Plains. He wasn’t the only one who’d made unsavoury comments about them before.

But after everything that’d happened, the supernatural events they’d witnessed, they were the last of his worries. He smiled at Gavin again.

“Trust you to have some sort of incredible history,” he said, and Gavin let out a laugh - relieved, but genuine. It was good to see him smile again, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, his squeaky, croaky laugh.

“Are we okay?” Geoff asked, softly, and Gavin nodded.

“Of course,” he replied. “I wanted… I wanted us to fix this, but I thought you didn’t want to.”

“I was being an ass,” Geoff admitted, feeling another stab of guilt at just how _long_ this had dragged on - the part he’d played in all of it. “You know how I get. It… it hurt a lot when you left, Gav. And when we met up again, I was fucking scared. Seeing how much you’d built… I thought you didn’t need us any more. It was easier to just be an asshole and act like I didn’t care than risk getting hurt again. Didn’t feel good, though.”

Gavin bit his lip. His eyes were huge and vulnerable.

“You’re very special to me,” Geoff whispered. “You’re intelligent and powerful and you deserve more than what the world’s ever given you. I…”

He trailed off, his voice faltering weakly away. He couldn’t get the words out - didn’t want the first time he said them properly to be in this situation, when he was lying here fucking _dying_ , in a room heavy with sickness and pain. But looking at Gavin now, he could see that the other man knew - that some time in the last eight months he’d grown past having to have everything said out loud.

“Take care of Jack for me,” Geoff murmured instead, and his voice grew thick and choked even as he said it. “Okay?”

Gavin stared at him. Geoff could see him struggling not to cry again; he was shaking visibly, biting hard at his lip, tears glistening in his eyes. Suddenly he surged forward and hugged Geoff again, burying his face in the crook of his neck - Geoff grunted a little as his side ached, but the wound was mostly numb by now, and what hurt him even more was how he could feel Gavin trembling, his breath hitching, clinging to Geoff like a child.

“Don’t go,” he begged, voice muffled into Geoff’s shirt. “Please, please, you can’t… you’re not gonna die, you _can’t_ die, I can’t, I can’t-”

Geoff’s own eyes stung with tears until he could barely see, his voice choking up in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, what he could do - Gavin was murmuring now, words Geoff couldn’t make out except for how desperate and broken they were, and for a moment the sheer _unfairness_ of all this nearly overwhelmed him.

_It wasn’t supposed to fucking be like this_.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed as best he could. He felt weak, his strength fading - Gavin’s magic, and his proximity, soothed him but didn’t _heal_ him, and right now all he could feel was the other man’s distress and pain.

He didn’t know what to say.

But he mustered the rest of his energy to bring a hand up and stroke it over Gavin’s back before resting it on the back of his head, holding him close, comforting the best he could. It was all he could do. He was scared, and so tired.

He couldn’t let himself dwell on what they could have had - all the possibilities there might’ve been if they’d sorted this out sooner, if they’d just had more _time_.

Even worse, he couldn’t let himself think about what would happen afterwards, once he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Jack stood alone in the corridor. The doctor had left some time ago, to check on the others in the infirmary. One of the soldiers had already died some hours ago, her body succumbing to the Wither - she’d been wounded closer to the heart, and deteriorated faster, and Jack hadn’t been able to bring himself to go and see her. He didn’t want to know what would happen, what he should be expecting.

But the doctor had given him the news, after drawing him into a little side chamber - quietly, calmly, and though she had tried to be gentle, she’d also been quite certain.

Geoff was going to die.

It wasn’t hitting him yet. He stood, numb, staring vacantly into the distance - his heart pounding, but his mind hollow and empty. Everything felt surreal - like this was happening to somebody else, and any moment now he’d wake up and find that this had all been a bad dream.

This had always been a possibility - of course it had, throughout Geoff’s childhood, through assassination attempts and the occasional battle or uprising that he’d been sent to deal with. The last eight months with Nutt, and then when the dragon attacked - there’d always been a _chance_ something could go wrong, that this time he might not come back. And Jack had had to come to terms with that. The life of a crown prince, and then of a King, was one of constant threat. But never had he been so acutely aware of it as now, after that damning news - after this hellish last twenty four hours.

_Fuck,_ was all he could think. It felt hard to breathe. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a long moment, trying to wrestle himself under control before heading back into the room. He had to hold himself together, for Geoff, even if he felt ready to shatter into a thousand pieces. He couldn’t worry the other man, not now - needed him to be reassured that the kingdom was in safe hands, that Jack would be okay without him, even if he really fucking wasn’t.

He took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and headed back in. As soon as he saw Geoff lying still in the bed, tears sprang to his eyes, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile as he walked over and sat down again, not letting Geoff see just how much the doctor’s words had rattled him.

“Hey,” he murmured, and Geoff blinked tiredly up at him. His face was white as a sheet now, his eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark wells. Under his shirt, Jack knew his entire chest was turning black as that creeping, poisonous darkness spread.

“Hey,” Geoff replied. His voice was barely audible, a rasping whisper. “Gav was just in here.”

Jack froze. He’d been so preoccupied with Geoff that he hadn’t thought much about Gavin, except occasionally wondering when he’d come in. He felt a little guilty for forgetting, now - but that was swept away as he realised what Geoff had just said.

“Good,” he replied. “I’m glad. I was hoping he would. Did you two…”

He trailed off, unsure - but Geoff gave a small smile.

“We apologised. Made up. You’re right, I was being stupid before. Wouldn’t see his side of things - but I think he’s seen mine, too. There’s no time for that, now. I didn’t want to hold onto it, I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave without him knowing how much I care about him.”

Jack began to nod, only to pause as something inside him crumbled. He should’ve been happy - he’d wanted this for eight months, after all. But it was all just too fucking _late_ , and somehow that was the straw that broke the camel’s back - the fact that now, fucking _now_ he was getting all he’d wanted. The others working together, Geoff and Ryan getting along, Gavin coming back to them - and none of it fucking mattered because they were going to lose Geoff, _his_ Geoff, and it all just felt so pointless that he couldn’t bear it. Before he knew it he was breaking down into tears, hitching little choked breaths tearing from his throat as the dam burst and tears stung the corners of his eyes before streaming down his face, salty and warm.

“Sorry,” he croaked, “Sorry, sorry…”

He hadn’t meant to - had wanted to be _strong_ , here, and not to distress Geoff - but as he blinked the tears away he realised the other man had started crying too, now. He had little energy for it, but his eyes and nose were red and his eyes glistened, his breaths shaky and desperate.

“No, you… you’re fine,” Geoff replied, and huffed out a laugh. “This fucking sucks, this all just… it’s all on me. I wouldn’t admit anything until my fucking deathbed when it doesn’t matter anyway. Look at me now, the king of the biggest fucking empire, crying here in bed. It’s fucking pathetic.”

Jack was barely listening, unable to drag his eyes off Geoff, letting his voice soak in - memorising it as well as he could, unable to comprehend that these might be the last moments he got to hear it, to see him still warm and alive.

“I don’t want you to go,” he pleaded. “I don’t know what to do without you.”

“Yes you do.” Geoff’s hand was on his, then, hot with fever and so light and frail that Jack’s heart clenched. His voice was shaky with tears, but certain. “You should have been king. You would’ve done all this better than I have, wouldn't have fucked everything up. Now you will be.”

“I don’t want it,” Jack said, fiercely. “I just want _you_.”

“You have Gavin,” Geoff murmured, and Jack bit his lip hard, another wave of upset hitting him. He couldn't bear to think of how hard Gavin must be taking this. It had felt empty without him, these last eight months. Now he might get Gavin back, but it still wouldn’t be the same without _Geoff_.  They’d never get the chance to see what might’ve happened with all three of them. It wasn’t fucking _fair_.

“I want _both_ of you,” he whispered. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never known a life without you, Geoff… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

His voice came out soft and broken. He hated that even now, when the other man was weak and dying, here he was begging for his help and guidance - but he couldn’t help it. He felt lost, and so very alone, and when Geoff still somehow managed to muster the strength to squeeze his hand it only brought more tears to his eyes.

“You can do it,” Geoff replied gently. “You have to. For the kingdom’s sake, for the others, for _me_.”

Jack didn’t know what to say. He leant in and pressed their foreheads together; both flushed warm with fever and emotion. His tears must’ve been falling onto Geoff’s face, but the other man didn’t comment. Just let out a weak shaky breath that Jack felt brush against his own lips.

“I don’t want to go,” he heard Geoff say, voice tiny - it seemed to slip out, a child’s worried admission. “I’m afraid.”

Another sob bubbled up in Jack’s throat. He had no words to comfort Geoff with, couldn’t think of a fucking thing. No advice, no wisdom, no reassurance, because there was _nothing_. Just the terror of oblivion. All he could do was _be here_ , as long as he could, and hope to the gods that somehow, there was something on the other side, some place where Geoff might go, where they might meet again one day. It was hardly a comfort. He wanted him here and now.

“I love you,” he whispered instead, barely managing to get the words out.

“I love you too,” Geoff said, turning to press their cheeks together instead.

Jack closed his eyes, struggling to breathe, drinking in the warmth of the other man’s body against his. This entire situation still didn’t feel real - it wasn’t meant to be this way. Nothing could ever make them ready for this. All he could do now was cling to Geoff, holding him close and feeling him breathe while he still could, trying desperately to relish every moment. Wishing, vaguely, that Gavin was here with them.

“I love you,” he choked out - found himself desperate to say it as many times as possible, while he still _could_. Geoff whispered it again in reply, but his voice was failing, and Jack didn’t want to push him too hard. “Shh, love, I know. I can say it for us both. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

 

* * *

 

Out in the corridor, it was dark and far too quiet. Jack didn’t even know where everyone else was, what was going on - if the Wither were still around, if there was some new plan. He couldn’t bring himself to care, his mind solely on Geoff.

Still - even if he was reluctant to leave Geoff for so much as a second, it was a guilty relief to be out of the stifling room, and to get a breath of cool fresh air after the constant heat of the fire and the overpowering scent of herbal balm. He paused, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. When he opened them again, it was to find Michael and Ray hovering nearby.

“How is he?” Michael asked, quietly.

“It’s not looking good,” Jack replied. “He’s tired, mostly. He has no energy. The Wither is spreading…”

He trailed off as he realised the two of them were holding hands and pressed close to each other’s sides. He glanced between them - it was clear that they were together. There was something too intimate about how they were standing, how they looked at each other as they exchanged a little, hopeless glance. Ray looked strained at the news. A little awkward perhaps - he didn’t know Geoff as well. Michael looked particularly upset, his eyes red and face drawn, but he swallowed hard and gave no active indication of it, even if Jack could see Ray rubbing his thumb soothingly over the other man’s knuckles, and Michael leaning into his touch.

“You should go in and see him,” he said. “I’m just going to grab a bandage. He’d like to… to say goodbye, probably.”

It was hard to get the words out. Saying them aloud made it seem far too real, and his voice cracked, a lump rising in his throat that he struggled to swallow down.

Michael had gone pale, looking horrified at the words. Ray squeezed him closer, but neither of them could protest, or pretend to be hopeful, now. They both knew it was true.

“Has Gavin been in there?” Ray asked, quietly.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Ray said. He exchanged a glance with Michael, both of them looking concerned. Jack was oddly touched, and also relieved. He hadn’t seen Gavin since just after Geoff was wounded, and knew he had to be taking this hard - was probably avoiding them deliberately. But he knew, suddenly, that Michael and Ray would help to take care of him. He felt a surge of gratitude, of fondness, towards all the other kings. If they hadn’t been surrounded by so many allies, so many people he _trusted_ , he would’ve been far more stressed about how the Plains was going to handle this. With that weight off his shoulders, he was free to focus on Geoff without distraction, and he didn’t think he could thank the others enough for that. Especially Ryan, who once would’ve been their greatest concern.

“I won’t be long,” he said, turning to go. “I don’t want to be away from him, in case... But you can dart in now and have a word - he’s weak, but he was awake when I left.”

The two of them nodded, and entered the room - Michael leading the way, Ray following, his hand coming briefly to rest on the small of the other man’s back. Jack watched them, oddly touched. He was glad to see the two of them together, and wondered how exactly that’d come about - but this wasn’t the time to ask questions, to get distracted. Still, it was nice to see.

He didn’t take long to go and fetch what he needed. By the time he returned, Michael and Ray had gone and the doctor was checking on Geoff again. She helped him redress the wound - it was hard to look at, black like rotten flesh now, oddly _hard_ to the touch, and spreading so much that Geoff’s entire torso looked like dark rock - but they covered it up, applied what soothing balms they could, and then Jack was left alone with him again.

By now Geoff was so weak he could barely speak, but he was smiling, albeit faintly.

“So they’re finally together,” he whispered, as soon as the doctor left the room.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, lying down beside him and tugging him as close as he could. “I guess one good thing came out of this fuckfest.”

“At least I lived to see that,” Geoff murmured - Jack’s heart clenched at the words, but he made no comment. “You know, Jack, I liked them a lot.”

“Me too,” Jack replied, softly so Geoff couldn’t hear how choked up he’d gotten.

“ _A lot_ a lot,” Geoff repeated - his voice was weak, something feverish in it, an odd note that made Jack pause. Geoff was clearly tired, perhaps even delirious, but the words were spilling out like he hadn’t the energy to stop them. “I wish we’d met them sooner. It’s just so hard to travel between kingdoms, except in the Sight. I like Ryan, too.”

“So do I,” Jack said, and Geoff huffed out an attempt at a laugh.

“I know you do,” he said. “I think he’ll take good care of you.”

Jack forced himself to smile. He shifted closer to Geoff, pressing kisses to his hair, his brow.

Maybe this was the fever talking. But Geoff couldn’t seem to stop, like he was trying to get as many thoughts as possible out while he could - to work out any final truths that he felt needed to be said.

“I mean it. He’s pretty fucking incredible. What he’s built with the golems, how he figured this shit out, he’s smart as dicks. And look at Gav, too, rebuilding this entire kingdom… Both of them, Jack, they’re just… I wasted so much fucking time hating them that I didn’t see just how much they’d achieved. We could have had something,” he added, thoughtfully. “All of us, maybe - hell if I know. It’s too late now.”

Jack was silent - unsure what to think of all this, but letting him ramble, just glad to still hear his voice. Geoff didn’t seem to expect a response.

“Besides,” he continued. “Have you seen how Michael looks at Gavin? Kid’s head over fucking heels for him. But now he’s with Ray… shit’s complicated. Who will any of us be falling for next, y’know?”

“Anyone, at this point,” Jack replied, and was glad to see Geoff grin.

This was all rather sudden, especially for Geoff, who’d so furiously tried to avoid so much as smiling at Gavin or Ryan this whole time. Jack wasn’t quite sure what he was implying, what he’d thought might happen, how all this could have worked out. Still - because they’d both been in love with Gavin, they’d always been fairly open about how they felt about relationships. If Geoff thought he loved everybody, or that they all might, it wasn’t something Jack could scoff at.

It _was_ something he didn’t want to dwell on right now. Because given what was happening, he couldn’t think of anything except that he wanted _Geoff_ , more than anyone else. That no matter what, all he’d wish for was for him to _stay_.

“It won’t be the same without you,” he choked out, tearfully, and Geoff managed to twitch a hand towards him, resting it gently on his hip.

“I’m flattered,” he croaked, but Jack shook his head.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “I love _you,_ Geoff. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Geoff was silent for such a long moment that Jack began to think he’d fallen unconscious again. But after a moment he managed to roll onto his side - an immense effort - and stare at Jack intently; their faces close, his blue eyes - though dull with pain - suddenly intense and focused.

“Don’t hang onto me,” he said - clearly making as much of an effort as he could to speak loudly and keep his voice firm. “Once I’m dead, I’m dead. Gavin will need you - and you’ll need him. Please… for me… let yourself have whatever you need. I love you too, Jack. I need to know you’ll be safe and supported and that you’ll let yourself be _happy_ again, eventually.”

Jack stared at him. His eyes were blurred with tears, but he managed to nod. Geoff slumped back - the effort having drained his last energy away.

“I’m tired,” he murmured, and Jack pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can rest now. I’m here. I’m here.”

 

* * *

 

Jack couldn’t tell what time it was outside. There were no windows in the bedchamber, just the continuous, flickering glow of the fire. It felt like this nightmare had been stretching on for days. Every second seemed like an hour - yet at the same time, everything was passing by too fast, time slipping away in precious increments that he knew he would never get back.

Geoff was sleeping.

Or unconscious - no, sleeping, Jack told himself. He had been for hours now. Too weak to move, or talk, it was almost a relief for his face to relax and nothing but the automatic rise and fall of his chest to take over.

Still. His breath wheezed and rattled through his bruise-blue lips. It wouldn’t be long now.

Jack had stopped crying.

Instead he’d settled into a sort of dazed acceptance. No miracles could come now - he felt numb and empty, lost in a bad dream, the silence of the room heavy and unreal, like all the life had been drained out of it.

Ryan had come in earlier and asked if he should get Gavin. Jack had nodded, and was vaguely waiting for them, but he couldn’t tell how much time had passed. All he could do was sit, Geoff cradled in his lap. Stroke his hair, and rub his hand, and lean down occasionally to press a kiss to his forehead.

He wished he had the crown bond.

With Geoff’s eyes closed, he felt shut out - it was impossible to tell how long he had left, or if he could feel Jack holding him tightly. To _connect_ with him any longer.

But he was so drained that he had no energy to feel anger, or resentment. All he could do was settle into this dazed silence - the warm room, the fire crackling, Geoff’s weight against him - and hold him close, and wait.

 

* * *

 

Ryan’s stomach was churning as he hurried through the castle. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, trying to find Gavin but simply unable to, wandering through the empty, twisting corridors, getting lost at every turn and unsure if he’d been in each area already. There was a vague sense of panic and dread building up in the pit of his stomach.

Time was running out. He could feel how Geoff was barely clinging to life - the bond felt thin as thread now, and he felt a burning urgency.

_Come on, Gavin, where the fuck are you? Where the fuck is_ anybody?

He’d left the inhabited areas of the castle and was now in the recently constructed sections. They weren’t furnished yet, and there were no lights save the redstone torch he carried. He felt like there was no one here but ghosts - like any moment now he’d wake up and realise this whole thing had been a dream, and that was why no one was around. Without the sound of construction there was nothing but haunting silence, save the occasional scuttle of the giant spiders that lived up in the eaves of the castle.

He came to a small doorway, so tiny that he wasn’t sure he’d fit into it. It led into a narrow, circular tower that stretched directly upwards, a winding staircase leading in.

He had to make a choice here. If this was a wrong turn, it would take him too long to go back down. He took a deep breath and squeezed in, hurrying up the stone stairs as well as he could in the cramped space. He felt dizzy as he turned and turned, feeling like he was running in circles and getting nowhere as the stairs wound around through the tower. But finally - finally, with the muscles of his legs burning and the harsh red light on the rotating walls starting to make him feel lightheaded, he saw another door up above.

The staircase led into an antechamber at the top of the tower. It was only half-finished - two walls were missing, and there was no roof - but Gavin was there, perched on a wide windowsill on one of the completed walls, staring out. It was nighttime by now, and the tower was high enough that it rose above the surrounding trees, bright moonlight spilling in through the open roof and sending the place awash with a ghostly glow. Ryan strode forward, heedless of how high up they were - Gavin was staring vacantly out at the surrounding Wild, but when Ryan came up he turned around and froze, a look of horror flashing across his face.

“Gavin,” Ryan began, urgently.

“Is he..” Gavin trailed off, looking terrified.

“Not yet,” Ryan replied. He was out of breath and speaking so fast that the words came out sounding soft and frantic, entirely unlike his usual tone. He barely realised as he continued, “You’d feel it, if he had. But there isn’t long. You should go and be with him - Jack, too.”

Gavin had frozen. He was stiff, his shoulders hunched up nearly around his ears - he just sat there, staring at Ryan with wide eyes, saying nothing. Ryan moved forward and grabbed his arm, yanking hard and pulling him off the windowsill so that he stumbled towards him.

“Gavin,” he insisted. “You don’t have _time_.”

Gavin stared up at him. His eyes were red and he looked tired and haunted - his arm, in Ryan’s grip, was ice cold to the touch. He could only wonder how long Gavin had been sitting out here.

“I…” Gavin’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat with a hoarse cough. “I don’t want to see him… I don’t want my last memory of him to be like _that_. I just… I can’t, Ryan. I _can’t_. It’s selfish - maybe Jack needs me there. Or maybe neither of them do, maybe they’re fine just the two of them. I don’t know what to _do_ , Ryan - I’ve never lost anybody before.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. His chest felt tight, overwhelming emotion welling up. He let go of Gavin’s arm slowly, but Gavin didn’t move. Just stared at the wall over Ryan’s shoulder. After a moment his jaw clenched, and his eyes, shining with tears, narrowed.

“This shouldn’t be _fucking_ happening,” he said, and barked out a harsh laugh. “Not to Geoff. Not when we need him so much. Not after he’s done nothing but try so bloody _hard_ to do the best for his kingdom. Where are our gods now? They don’t exist and we’ve fucking proven it. Nothing but humans with gifts, just like us. So _we_ are the gods. Apparently we can die too. It’s all just - so fucking _useless_!”

He was shouting by now, hysterically - Ryan stared at him helplessly, and after a moment Gavin’s gaze turned back to him. Their eyes met, and Ryan knew he must look upset too, but the sheer, hopeless _anger_ in Gavin’s face was startling.

“No miracle?” Gavin demanded. “No last save? Bloody hell, Ryan, the two of us, out of everyone…. the witch and the scientist, magic and medicine… we should fucking know what to do here. But we’re just useless, _useless_ \- there should be something-”

“Gavin-”

“There _has_ to be something, _something_ -”

He was screaming by this point, his broken, desperate voice echoing through the stone tower, crying out helplessly into the night air. Ryan was so close to him that he could _feel_ it - Gavin’s magic rising, his anger boiling up inside of him. It was raw and furious, blazing like a fever. Not just heat but something sickening and draining to it as well. It was like acrid smoke at the back of his tongue, like the searing pain of scalding water, like the unsettling dread of the Wild and its angry ghosts. It was nearly overwhelming, and for a moment it washed into Ryan too, filling him to the brim with nothing but sharp, acidic bitterness-

And then it happened.

In a second, that wrenching emptiness opened up inside of him, some part of him dropping away and leaving a gaping raw wound as his connection with Geoff _broke._ It flooded him, just as it had when Michael’s father passed, when the Wild king died - but worse this time, a horrible, intense _grief_ washing over him in waves as he realised what had happened.

He didn’t think anyone could ever get used to the feeling of losing one of the bonded. That sudden shock - and the _nothingness_ left behind after. Like you were falling, grasping desperately for something to hold onto, and reaching nothing but empty air. It startled him with its force, and a moment later tears sprang to his eyes as he realised.

_This is it._

_He’s gone._

_He’s_ gone.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenching at his sides. He could feel Ray, and Michael, and their outpouring of horror and shock as they felt what had happened too.

And Gavin…

Ryan opened his eyes.

Gavin had never felt anything like this. He’d been the last to join, hadn’t experienced losing someone this way before. He’d stumbled backwards and was clutching at his chest, his face white, blazing green eyes huge and shocked. His mouth was open, gasping for air, and Ryan could _see_ him realising, processing what had happened.

Then, as it struck him-

A horrible, desperate shout tore from his lips, a near-animalistic noise before he collapsed to his knees, gasping.

“No,” Ryan heard him force out, a choked, wheezing cry. “No, no, no-”

He could _feel_ the pain, ebbing out of him in such terrible, crashing pulses, like lashing waves in some torrential storm. A pain like Ryan had never felt before, not when his own mother died, not in any of his own darkest moments.

He involuntarily moved forward, wanting to do something, to help him somehow. But before he could get close, Gavin suddenly reached up and clutched at his hair. He threw his head back and let out a gut-wrenching scream, like he was the one who had been stabbed, who was burning up with poison and fever.

The feeling of magic in the room rippled suddenly, a shockwave of power seeming to burst out from Gavin. It felt like when Ryan used his own power in surges, and he automatically stepped back, flinching-

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

The entire castle shook as innumerable, deafening explosions suddenly rang out outside, a chorus of detonations like drumbeats, one after another, echoing through the entire Wild. It felt like the entire world was falling apart; sounded like it, too, and it took moment for Ryan to realise what it was.

The creepers.

They were exploding one by one as Gavin lashed out in his grief and pain and anger, letting his gift loose uncontrollably. Many of them were so close to the castle that he heard something crash and crumble outside, heard screams of shock and fear from elsewhere in the compound. For a moment, the entire world seemed like a battlefield, like war drums and cannons were ringing out around them and they were in the middle of some frenzy.

The entire tower was trembling, and Ryan lunged forward and grabbed Gavin. The other man struggled for a moment, desperately - elbows and sharp bones digging into Ryan - but he wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, clasping him to his chest and trying in some desperate attempt to soothe him.

“Gavin,” he said, and his own voice was cracking - he realised there were tears in his eyes, that he was shaking just as hard - but he swallowed it down. “Gavin, Gavin, stop. _Stop._ ”

Another explosion rocked them. But then Gavin slumped against Ryan and clung to him, fingers grasping the front of his shirt. He collapsed into wrenching, terrible sobs that seemed to tear through his entire body - every breath a struggling, hitching gasp in between. They sank to the floor, clutching each other tightly - Gavin had curled in on himself. He felt small in Ryan’s arms, a shaking, broken little creature. The emptiness was like a void inside Ryan. His own grief settled heavy in the pit of his stomach, like a wrecked ship sinking to the depths of the sea. He squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath, and held Gavin as close as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Alpine King](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149767564214/darkkkun-michael-strongest-man-in-all-the) by darkkkun - thank you so much! <3


	15. Chapter 15

It felt like the world was falling apart. Ray couldn’t tell if it was the ground still shaking under them from the force of the explosions, or if it was Michael, clutched tightly in his arms, trembling. They clung to each other for dear life where they’d fallen back against the wall in their shared bedroom. They’d retreated there, towards the end.

The deafening _booms_ and _bangs_ outside didn’t stop coming, a continuous rumble, so loud that it seemed as though the earth was splitting apart under them. It was terrifying, and Ray thought he realised, now, just why people feared creepers so much. He hadn’t heard or felt anything like this before. It seemed that at any moment, the very room they were in would be the next to collapse.

Still - with Michael’s arms around him, he felt somewhat more secure, and as the shock wore off Michael pressed him harder against the wall and shifted, pinning him there, his body covering Ray’s as much as it was able - protecting him. Ray stared up at him - their chests pressed together, hearts pounding - Michael looked back at him, eyes wide and scared, but jaw set determinedly. His arms were locked tight and it felt like nothing could budge him.

After what seemed like forever, the noises abruptly stopped, and an eerie silence settled over them in the aftermath. They waited for a long moment, breathless, half-afraid that another explosion would suddenly ring out - but there was nothing, just a lingering, electric tension, and finally Michael let out a relieved sigh and slumped against Ray.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and Ray gave a shaky, humourless laugh.

Every explosion seemed to have taken his breath away. He felt a bit light-headed now, dizzy like the floor was still shaking under them. He thought that might be what it was like to be on a boat - he’d never experienced one before, but he’d imagined it sometimes, looking at grand paintings of oceans that were so far out of his lived experience he could hardly picture that much water.

And under everything - and seeping back in stronger, now, as the shock faded - that heavy, heavy sense of _loss_ was still there.

_Geoff_.

Oh, Geoff. He couldn’t forget it for a second - the hole in his heart, the nagging _emptiness_ was a constant reminder.

He and Michael had been here, together, when they felt him pass. They’d known it was coming, could feel the thread connecting them fading weaker and weaker, and they’d waited here in silence. Clutching each other’s hands tightly, heads pressed close. Every second that passed both a relief and an agony.

Ray had been glad not to be alone. That would have been awful. And it was even better, now that they were actually together.

Somehow things hadn’t changed all that much. He’d hardly dared to hope when Michael approached him in the gardens that this might be about to happen, and even when it had, reality hadn’t quite sunk in. But there was no drastic change, and somehow that made everything easier. It was exactly as he’d always imagined it’d be; still friends, still close, but now something _more_ , something that meant Ray could take a comfort from him that otherwise he might’ve been hesitant to - when they sat close together and he felt the tug of magic seeking to open him up and let Michael in, let their emotions mingle and balance one another out, he _let it_ , unafraid of what the other man might find, trusting him completely.

For the first time in a long time, he’d felt _whole_.

Until now, of course. Now when the crown bond was broken and they were missing one once more. Nothing could ever be alright until that was resolved.

He’d felt this a few times before - with Michael’s father, and the Wild kings - but it never got easier. And somehow, this time, it was even _worse_ , because Geoff - Geoff had been different. Ray wasn’t sure how to explain it. He hadn’t known Geoff as long as the others - hadn’t been as close to him, not remotely.

But still close enough to care, a _lot_ \- still close enough for this to really fucking hurt. Close enough to _miss him_ , as it finally sank in that he was gone, gone, gone, and all Ray could think about now were the few moments they had shared together. He still remembered his match against  Geoff in the games - how indignant the other man had been on his behalf after Ryan humiliated him. The genuine concern on his face when he was worried if he’d gone too hard on him. How he’d picked him up and brushed him down and checked on him - that had been oddly touching, even if Ray hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But Geoff had been like that, Ray had seen him with his men. He genuinely cared about people. There wasn’t enough of that, in this world.

He remembered the library, and the little thrill he’d gotten when Geoff praised him, and how nice it had felt to work together and _accomplish_ something and be acknowledged as useful for once. The oddly intense look on Geoff’s face as he said, _how can Michael not be in love with you_ , and how for a second before it sank in, the softness in his voice had made Ray pause and his heart flutter and his breath catch in his throat just to hear someone talk to him like that, see them look at him with that expression on their face, something he’d wanted for too long, even if it was from someone else.

And he remembered seeing the sheer love and affection on Geoff’s face when he looked at Jack - remembered how he’d used to interact with Gavin, and how hurt he’d been after all that had happened. He remembered how much Michael had looked up to the other man.

A lump rose in his throat as he realised how all that was _gone_ now. He swallowed hard, and met Michael’s eyes, trying to focus on what’d just happened.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked. “Are we under attack from something?”

“No fucking idea,” Michael replied. “But it didn’t sound good. Let’s go out and see.”

Ray nodded. Michael stepped back, squeezing Ray’s arm briefly before he turned away and snatched up his sword from where it lay on the bed. Ray grabbed his bow and slung his quiver over his back. They marched out of the room together, heading for the front door.

After all the chaos, there was nothing but a resounding silence. It was unsettling - he was poised, waiting for the Wither to burst out, just like they had in the clearing when they took them by surprise.

But there was _nothing_ \- as they entered the main hall, he paused as he caught sight of Dan, and Griffon, and the other Wild folk. They were rushing through the corridors and outside, not pausing to talk or explain what was going on - moving like shadows in their creeper skin cloaks.

He exchanged a glance with Michael, who looked just as confused. Still tense and wary, they went outside.

The Wild was just as silent as the castle. Enormous clouds of dust were rising in the compound - dirt and particles hanging in the air and making it nearly impossible to see. It didn’t help that it was a foggy night to begin with, and as they stepped outside Ray felt a chill run down his spine. It was cold out here, and streams of moonlight shone in beams through the mist and smoke. He imagined the underworld looked like this, hazy and blue and filled with shadow-like forms slipping by. Beside him, Michael reached out and grabbed his wrist, keeping hold of him as they pushed their way through the plumes of dust.

Ray coughed and choked as they passed through - he could taste the soil, feel it scratch at the back of his throat - they pushed through, and as everything settled they emerged near the gate. He froze, horrified.

Part of the wall had caved in, rubble strewn around the gaping, jagged hole. Tearing through the gardens, and all around the compound, enormous craters had appeared in the dirt - holes six feet deep, rocks and shrapnel thrown violently about.

“Creepers,” Michael muttered - Ray nodded, mutely. The destruction was instantly recognisable.

There was something very eerie about the deep pits, all around them like dark, open graves. There were bones, too, where draugr had been blasted apart, and the scorched, smoking remains of zombies.

The Wild folk were moving around, checking to make sure it was only mobs that had been killed.

“Head count!” Griffon yelled eventually, and all of them came back over. Michael and Ray followed suit, as she counted them up and checked before giving a firm nod.

“We’re all here - except Gavin.”

“He’s in the castle,” Dan replied, and her shoulders slumped in relief. She looked over and saw Michael and Ray standing in the crowd, meeting their eyes solemnly.

“It doesn’t look like any of the soldiers were caught in the blast,” she said - Ray let out a relieved breath. He’d lost more than enough men already.

“Fuck,” Michael said. “Gavin did this?”

They exchanged glances before all the Wild group looked away, sad and uncomfortable. Ray bit his lip.

It was no accident that this had happened moments after Geoff died. There was something desperately tragic about the destruction all around them, a physical, visceral outpouring of grief from the Wild king. He’d known the same pain - after his parents had died, when he’d accepted the crown and the gift he’d had frequent, uncontrollable outbursts of thorns and twisted weeds. When the pain built up, magic could be an easy way to get it out.

This was Gavin’s form of that - sheer destruction as he set the creepers off. He probably hadn’t even done it deliberately.

“The Wither or anything else might still be out there. This wall needs to be rebuilt,” Gus spoke up - he was addressing Griffon, but Ray stepped forward.

“You’re right,” he said - they turned to look at him, and he lifted his chin. “Don’t bother Gavin with this. Not now. I can handle it.”

They looked curious, but nodded - Ray moved over to the gap. Everyone was watching intently, and he was still tired from his previous magic use over the last few days. But the gift didn’t run out so easily, and when he crouched and pressed a hand to the ground, his desperation and determination made it easy to call on.

A black wall of brambles emerged from the ground in a silent dark rush. It filled in the gap in the wall, an impenetrable, dangerous barrier. Somehow it fit in perfectly with the Wild surroundings - the thorned architecture and the bristling crown looked very similar.

He swayed tiredly as he stood up, and Michael came up next to him, squeezing his shoulder.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, and Ray nodded.

“Thank you,” Griffon spoke up - Ray turned to find all of them watching him. Their previous suspicion and wariness had softened a little. All of them just looked very tired. He nodded again in return.

“Where’s Gavin, then?” Barbara began.

“I can check on him,” Michael spoke up. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Ray felt him nudge against their bond before reaching out further. He was too tired to join in, but a moment later Michael opened his eyes again.

“He’s with Ryan,” he replied. “I can feel them. He’ll be okay. He’s… upset, but like I said. Ryan’s with him.”

Once, _Ryan’s with him_ would probably have been more alarming than reassuring, but it seemed the Stone king had proven himself, even to Gavin’s friends. They just nodded, and moved silently back inside, apparently having decided to deal with the mess and destruction later. Ray and Michael were left standing in the cold night, on the edge of one of the craters.

Ray was still getting his breath back. When he finally looked up, Michael was staring down into the darkness. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed.

“It doesn’t feel real,” he said, softly. Now that the adrenaline of the explosions was gone, now that there was nothing to _distract_ them - the grief was sinking in again. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

“It’s not like the other times,” Ray agreed, quietly. He bit his lip, unsure what to say. Part of him was still in shock. The rest was so deeply miserable he didn’t know what to think. And if he was feeling this way, Michael must feel even worse - not to mention Gavin or, oh gods, _Jack_. The thought of that was upsetting him too - how the others must be feeling.

“Do you remember how we used to look up to him as kids?” Michael said - his voice was shaky, but Ray thought maybe it was helping him to talk about it, and shifted closer, pressing against his side and taking his hand, listening patiently as he continued. “That story about how he challenged a Stoneworld dignitary to a drunken knife-throwing competition-”

“Oh gods, yes. I wish I’d been able to ask him about that. Or the one about him killing that giant that was terrorising some village.”

“I bet it wasn’t a real giant,” Michael agreed. “Or he’d’ve brought it up when we were talking about the beasts.”

“What, so it was just some uncommonly large man who somehow took out an entire village’s herd of sheep?”

“Maybe he just really liked mutton,” Michael said - Ray laughed, and Michael did too, but it faltered away quickly.

“Like you said,” he murmured. “No way we get to ask him now.”

Ray bit his lip. He hugged Michael closer, and after a moment the other man turned and wrapped his arms around him tightly, burying his face in Ray’s shoulder. Ray leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, holding him close - taking comfort from each other. At least they had that - he could only hope that Jack and Gavin found it, too.

 

* * *

 

Jack hadn’t prayed in a long, long time.

Maybe it was useless. After all, who knew what the gods were, after what they’d discovered here in the Wild? Just humans like them, apparently. Mortals. No divine powers, no creators of this world.

Maybe it was habit. Maybe because he just needed to believe in _something._ Maybe because it was comforting to have something to put his mind to, after this long, terrible night. Yet now, as the hours wore on and on, he found himself with nothing else to cling to.

_Please, let him be at rest. Please, let him be somewhere better. There has to be something -_ somewhere _. A place where eventually I’ll see him again. Let him_ be there.

He’d been sitting here for so long his legs had gone numb - clasping Geoff’s ice-cold hand, leaning in now and then to press their foreheads together. Jack knew he was gone, but couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He’d stopped crying a while ago.

The longer he looked at the body, the more detached and numb he felt. It was strange, but it just didn’t seem like Geoff any more. To look at it didn’t make him sad. It was just like looking at a stranger, or a statue - nothing but a shell. It didn’t feel real.

It was when he closed his eyes, when he imagined Geoff as he _had_ been, so full of life and laughter, warm and comforting, his high laugh, his blue eyes - always too tired, but so often ready to crease into a smile. _That_ was when the grief threatened to overwhelm him, when he realised he’d never hear that laugh again, or feel the other man’s warm touch.

He’d been here all night.

He only realised morning had broken when he began to hear people move around and talk outside. He stirred - his whole body felt stiff and achy - and realised the fire had burned down to embers, and the night had passed, and it was time to move on.

There really was nothing to say now.

Jack was just too tired. He knew that later he’d be angry, and filled with pain. Knew it would hit him over and over again, that he’d never stop thinking about it, that there would be times he could do nothing but cry. But he was drained, from everything - and some terrible, small part of him was almost _relieved_ that the pain was over, that he didn’t have to see Geoff suffering and struggling to breathe any longer. But still - he couldn’t stand it. All he was doing was clinging on and trying to stay calm himself.

There was a gentle rap at the door. It was the first interruption in hours, and it sent a little shock through him. He took a deep, steadying breath.

It was time to go out and face the others. To leave this behind, to never be with Geoff again - to move on and try without him. For a moment, he couldn’t stand the thought.

But he took a last look at the body, and closed his eyes, and imagined the other man standing beside him - smiling, close behind him, nodding and telling him to go. He leaned in and kissed Geoff’s cold forehead before rising and turning in one swift movement, marching to the door and opening it.

“Come in,” he said.

When he spoke, he nearly cried again. His own voice was so broken and hoarse - but he swallowed it down, and met Ryan’s eyes. The other man was alone, hand raised where he’d knocked.

The first thing Jack noticed was that Ryan had been crying too. His eyes were red rimmed, his face flushed. Even more unexpected - he wasn’t hiding it.

“Ryan,” he said softly - and then, on impulse, moved forward and hugged him. After all that had happened, he didn’t care about the lack of propriety. He just needed some comfort, some human touch.

He half expected Ryan to go stiff, or push him away. But to his surprise, the other man hugged him back tightly, pulling Jack close to his chest for a moment. His arms were strong, locked firmly around Jack, and for a moment he missed Geoff again, a sharp, acute ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ryan said softly, his voice a low rumble where Jack’s face was pressed into his chest.

“Thank you,” Jack replied. It came out thick and choked, but he took a deep breath and gathered himself as they pulled apart and he looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes. “And thank you for giving me this time with him. It must be morning by now.”

“We all thought you’d prefer not to be interrupted,” Ryan said.

Jack nodded, grateful.

“I heard explosions, before,” he began hesitantly - he’d barely taken note of them, since Geoff had just stopped breathing and he’d thought the others would deal with it. But Ryan’s face creased, now, with something pained and worried.

“Gavin,” he said, and Jack’s heart dropped - perhaps it was selfish, but he’d been so preoccupied with Geoff that he hadn’t spared much thought for the other man. It hit him hard, now, that Gavin would have felt Geoff die. Gods, he must be hysterical by now. “I couldn’t get him here in time. I’m sorry.”

“Is he okay?”

Another strange look passed across Ryan’s face.

“He’s resting now,” he replied. “He might want to see you. Or he might want time alone, I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell. He’s… very, very upset, understandably. Dan was with him earlier, but I don’t know if they spoke or if he was just… checking on him.”

Jack nodded, swallowing. His stomach had dropped again just at the thought of how Gavin must be handling all this. He’d missed the other man, when sitting with Geoff, but he hadn’t dwelled on it. He’d been so used to Gavin being away the last eight months that in his distraction, he’d just taken it as a given that the other man wasn’t there. That there’d be another _without_. He felt bad about it, now.

Ryan looked over his shoulder, into the room and at the still form on the bed.

"He’s…”

He trailed off, uncomfortably, and Jack took a deep breath.

“It’s not him,” he replied. “He’s gone. It’s just… empty. You must feel it,” he added, cautiously, and Ryan grimaced, pressing a hand to his heart involuntarily. Jack couldn’t imagine what it might feel like when one of the bonded died. Geoff had tried to describe it before, but he’d never _known_ , not really.

Soon he would, he realised, grimly. Soon he’d be part of that too. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted, for so long?

_Not like this. Never like this. Not without Geoff, too._

Ryan nodded, swallowing hard.

“You must inherit,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

“I know,” Jack replied, tiredly. He sighed heavily, and ran his hands over his face. Suddenly, now that he’d broken out of the daze of last night, he was realising exactly how much shit there was to do. It was overwhelming. “We have the crown here. Just - I don’t know. We won’t get the body to the Plains in time to bury it. The journey is long.”

“If you need anything, the Stone kingdom is at your disposal,” Ryan said immediately.

Jack looked up at him. He couldn’t bring himself to smile, but Geoff’s words rang in his head. How he thought they could trust the other man. How he’d come to like him. There was something bittersweet, now, to how Ryan was looking at him, intent and sincere.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I truly appreciate that.”

He ran his hands through his hair, stress rising up in his chest now as the weight of his responsibilities suddenly bore down on him.

“I need to send a message back as soon as I have the Sight,” he began. “But I’ll need to practice that, too, get used to using it… I need to go back and, and arrange everything - I can’t stay here, not after an event as big as handing over the crown. We’ll need to make announcements, and I’ll have to sort out the court…”

“Go,” Ryan urged him, his clear, calm voice somehow soothing the nerves that were starting to rise up. “Go home. Deal with your kingdom. Do what you must. Anything to do with sorting out this portal, anything else here in the Wild - the rest of us will handle it.”

“Thank you,” Jack said again, relieved.

Ryan just raised and lowered one shoulder.

“We work together here,” he replied, simply. “If one person needs to take care of their household, the others pick up the rest. I am thinking,” he added - almost _tentative_ now, something foreign about that note in his voice. “We should sign alliance treaties. All five of us. It will reassure people - let them know that this portal and anything to do with it is the bigger threat. It would solidify your reign, make it easier for your people to trust you if they don’t need to worry about war. I think Michael and Ray will be on board. You just need to get Gavin to agree.”

Jack stared at him, eyes huge.

This had come out of nowhere. He hadn’t expected political talk as big as this after what’d just happened, and was unprepared - but most of all, he could barely believe he was hearing this from _Ryan_ of all people. He remembered telling the other man about his dream for the kingdoms, what he believed in, but he hadn’t really thought the other man would consider it for a long, long time, especially given the Stoneworld’s historically tense relationship with all the other kingdoms.

To have his dream essentially handed to him on a plate, not to mention the relief of being offered such significant support so early in what was about to be his reign…

It was an enormous gift Ryan was giving him, and he knew the other man understood the weight of it. Jack stared at him, flabbergasted, unable to even come up with the words to thank him.

Finally, he managed to nod.

“I… I think that would be a very good idea,” he said, and Ryan nodded. Jack added, “I should go to Gavin. Talk to him.”

“Do so,” Ryan agreed. Then, voice growing stilted again, “Griffon said she and the others will prepare the body. You can decide what to do with it, if you would rather bury him here, or take him back to the Plains. My golems can take it for you, if that’s what you decide. They are strong, and travel quickly.”

Jack bit his lip, upset rising up in his chest. Burying Geoff seemed to make everything so _final_ , and talking about the other man as though he wasn’t here any more only made it sink in even further that he wasn’t coming back. That this was the _end_. The pain was still raw and sharp with every reminder.

“I’ll see what Gavin thinks,” he managed to reply. “The coronation is the main thing. It will have to happen here. We can’t wait when there’s so much to do.”

Ryan nodded again. Then, after a moment, reached out and squeezed Jack’s shoulder.

“You have this under control,” he said, firmly. “You _do._ ”

Jack stared up at him, not bothering to hide his exhaustion, his fear, his vulnerability.

“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” he replied. His own voice sounded small, childlike, _torn_ \- and raw sympathy crossed Ryan’s face.

“It will,” he said. “Again and again. It will probably never stop. But you are strong,” he repeated, and sounded so certain that Jack could nearly believe it himself. “He trusted you more than anyone else in the world. You will continue his legacy. We all believe in you.”

Jack nodded. He didn’t look back into the room - just met Ryan’s eyes, and took a deep breath, and stepped out to begin his work.

 

* * *

 

First, Jack went to visit the soldiers.

By now, everyone knew what had happened. When he walked into the infirmary, where just about everyone was, all of them went immediately still and silent. They looked up at him worriedly, and he could see the concern in all their faces - knew they were wondering if he was okay, waiting for him to break.

He probably looked like shit - he hadn’t slept, and his eyes were red from crying, and he felt dishevelled and dirty from the last few days without eating or cleaning much. But he held his head high as he calmly tried to inform them what was going on - that they were going to discuss where to lay Geoff to rest, that he would be crowned as soon as possible, that they were all going back to the Plains and that they were likely going to sign an alliance. The soldiers listened intently - they looked worried, but at the same time, there was such genuine trust in their faces that Jack could only feel reassured that at least he had people on his side. At least things were somewhat under control. He wasn’t sure what he’d’ve done if this had happened while Baron Nutt was still alive and causing havoc.

After that he went to find out what he’d missed while at Geoff’s bedside. The other two withered soldiers had passed away about the same time, and he realised with a sinking heart that Ray and Michael had also lost quite a number of men. Matt, at least, was stable and on the road to recovery - that was one small blessing, at least.

Michael and Ray themselves were out of the compound, checking for any remaining Wither. There’d been no further attacks, and based on the previous patrols it seemed like they’d mostly all been killed by now. At least that was one issue under control, and for now there was no immediate danger.

So now - to find Gavin.

Jack thought back to the explosions he’d heard. Now that he knew it had been Gavin setting off the creepers, it only made him feel even worse, to see such a sheer expression of the other man’s pain. He knew that soon he would feel Gavin constantly, be more intimately connected with him than ever before - the fact that it was only happening because Geoff had been ripped away stole any joy or excitement he might have felt about that. Especially since he knew, right now, that all they would feel was each other’s grief.

Gavin was in Dan’s room, since Geoff had been in his. Jack felt uneasy as he approached the door, realising the weight of that. He knew Gavin would never sleep in that room again, not after what’d happened there.

He hesitated outside the door, tentative and oddly nervous. He’d never been scared of Gavin before, but right now he had no idea how the other man must be taking this. Gavin was volatile, emotional - he tended to cover things up and let them fester, to keep smiling and smiling while things built up inside. When they finally did explode, they exploded violently - both literally and figuratively, now that he had his gift.

But Jack took a deep breath, and knocked. He couldn’t leave Gavin, not now. They needed each other more than ever. _He_ needed Gavin - the only one who could possibly understand the depth of what he was going through. He didn’t want to be alone in this.

“Gavin?” he called out, softly - he got no reply, but the door wasn’t locked, and he pushed it open and entered.

As soon as he walked into the small room, he felt like he’d been slapped in the face. The air felt heavy with some dark, brooding magic, hanging like stormclouds in the tiny space. It felt like when he’d stepped into the Wild for the first time - an intense, irrational dread immediately set in, and he wanted nothing more than to turn and run away. It felt dangerous - made him  genuinely scared. Something was _wrong_ , like the very space itself was toxic.

But his eyes fell immediately on Gavin - a small lump curled up under the blankets in the bed across the room.

_This is his doing_ , he realised, and took a deep breath, pushing his fear aside and walking towards him.

“Gavin,” he said. “It’s me. I’m so sorry-”

He choked on the words. He’d tried so hard to be strong before, with Ryan and with the soldiers. But Gavin, Gavin could understand how he really felt - the deep pain that wasn’t going away, the grief like a stone in the pit of his stomach, a constant pressure as it continually came to him, again and again, _he’s gone forever, he’s not coming back, you’ll never see him again_ \- they were the only two people here who truly _knew_ , probably.

There was an untouched tray of food and water on the floor beside the bed. Jack spared it a glance as he got close - Gavin was curled in on himself, facing the wall, the creeper skin blankets pulled up over his head. But Jack could see him shaking and jerking now and then, and after a moment he slipped his shoes off before climbing into the bed with him.

There was barely room for both of them and Jack ended up pressed right against his back, one arm moving around Gavin’s waist to hold him tightly. Gavin didn’t turn to look at him, but he also didn’t move away. Jack could feel him shaking, hard, and after a moment he heard a stifled little sob. That seemed to be a breaking point; a second later he could hear Gavin crying next to him, little choked noises and trembling shoulders, muffled into the pillow.

A lump rose in Jack’s own throat. He was all out of tears himself - his head ached, and he felt wrung out and exhausted from all the crying he’d already done - but his own eyes burned now, and his heart throbbed, and he hugged Gavin closer, comforting him as best as he could.

It felt like they lay there forever, in the dark room. Even after all that had happened the last eight months, they still fit together so easily. Jack managed to lose himself in stroking Gavin’s hair soothingly, in trying to keep his own breathing slow and calm. Eventually, Gavin seemed to exhaust himself, falling into nothing but hitching breaths.

“He wouldn’t want this,” Jack heard himself say. His voice came out ragged and raw. “He’d want us to get drunk, and laugh about the times we had together, and then get out there and kick ass.”

Gavin was silent for a long moment.

“Easy to say that,” he replied, finally, muffled into the bedding. He sounded so small and broken that somehow that made another sob rise up in Jack’s chest, made more tears well in his eyes, even if he’d thought he was finished with crying.

“Yeah,” he managed. Before he knew it the tears were spilling over and he was the one shaking again.

Gavin went stiff. After a moment he rolled over, finally uncurling and turning to face Jack. He reached up, cupping the other man’s cheek, rubbing his tears away gently with his thumb. There was something so tender in the motion that it made Jack’s chest feel tight again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he blurted out. “I’m glad I still have you. Please… give me that.”

He saw Gavin’s face twist with pain.

“Geoff…” he began, tentatively, and Jack shook his head.

“It was always the three of us. Never just two. He told me what happened between you guys in the forest. He regretted that, I know. There was so much we could have had together, _should_ have had, if things hadn’t gone so wrong. But now he’s gone, and I… I can’t lose you too. _Please_.”

Gavin just hugged him tightly, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and pressing his face into his chest.

“I already miss him,” he admitted, voice muffled into the crook of Jack’s neck. “I hate that we spent our last times together hating each other. It wasn’t enough to make up with him just at the end. I don’t know what to do, what I’m _doing_ \- it hurts so _much_.”

His voice cracked a little, and Jack squeezed him tighter.

“I know,” was all he could reply, brokenly. “I know.”

The magic in the room had died down from that feeling of unbearable dread to a suffocating, continuous _misery_. But as they lay together, as Jack continued to stroke Gavin’s back and they settled into having each other again, as they sought what reassurance they could, even that began to fade. Jack knew, then, that whether it had been said or not, Gavin had to know Jack loved him. Had to know that they wouldn’t waste time about things now. Geoff was gone, and it was too late for too many things, and they couldn’t let it happen again.

There wasn’t much else to be said. He didn’t think they would ever get over this.

There were some things - some pains so deep, some grief so unforgettable - that only time could help you to cope. Things that would never heal, that would never be _complete_.

But to suffer alone was even worse. At least they were together, that was all Jack could think. It was a meagre comfort, but it was something, at least. At least Gavin was letting him get close, and hold him, and comfort him. At least they weren’t alone.

 

* * *

 

Ray was pretty sure that all of the Wither had been killed. He’d been out on patrol for several hours now, his surviving soldiers spreading out around the forest, but they’d only encountered one or two, wandering alone and aimless, and had dealt with them quickly.

It was early afternoon now, and the sun was high in the sky by the time he returned to the compound. He hoped Michael was already back - he could feel that the other man was fine, so he mustn’t’ve run into any trouble, but there was still a deep, nagging ache from Geoff’s absence, and Ray didn’t want the rest of them split apart any further.

Which was why he was rather alarmed when he walked back through the gates to find Ryan standing in the clearing outside the castle, readying a horse.

For a moment, Ray froze, staring - Ryan was preparing saddlebags, and a sword, and was clearly getting ready for a long trip. The terrible thought crossed Ray’s mind that with Geoff gone, their alliance was broken now, and Ryan might return to how he’d been before. Aloof and untouchable, alone in his Stone kingdom. Distant and hostile to all of them.

“Are you leaving?” he called out, before he could quite think about it.

Ryan spun around. His eyes widened when he saw Ray, but his face stayed soft, and Ray realised that he didn’t look cold and hard like before. He just looked exhausted.

“Ray,” Ryan replied. “How are you?”

“Upset,” Ray replied slowly, “But dealing. You?”

“The same,” Ryan admitted - Ray was a bit surprised by how readily he’d said it. Once Ryan would've denied caring for Geoff at all. It was clear that that wasn’t the case anymore, and something tugged at his heart. It would’ve been nice, but…

_Too little, too late._

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Are you going home permanently, now?”

“No,” Ryan replied quickly, and Ray knew that his sharp eyes would have caught the way his own shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m going back to the Stoneworld to do research. I’m not sure how long it will take. I’m… investigating something.”

Ray knew that tone of voice. It was guarded, secretive, but not in the way that Ryan had been before when he was desperate to distance himself from all of them. It was more hesitant somehow - like when Ray had been in love with Michael, but wasn’t ready to tell him. Cautious - hopeful, but afraid his hope might be misplaced. He frowned, a little confused.

“About the portal?” he asked. “I heard Gavin got the eyes of Ender out, but we still need to destroy it.”

“Somewhat linked to the portal,” Ryan said, vaguely - then shook himself. “It may be nothing. I just want to check. Tell the others I will try to be back soon, but don’t wait around for me. If any of you need to go anywhere, do anything, then do so. I don’t know how long this will take, or if I’ll even find what I’m looking for.”

He pulled his horse’s girth strap tight and began to swing himself onto its back. Ray involuntarily started forward, a hand reaching out towards him.

“Wait!” he called out, desperately - barely even meaning to.

Ryan turned to him expectantly, one eyebrow rising, and Ray froze, suddenly unsure what he’d even wanted to say. All he knew was that he didn’t want him to go - wanted him to stay here, for _all_ of them to be together. He felt rather helpless suddenly.

They hadn’t seen each other since everything had happened. Hadn’t gotten a moment together in a while. Ray hadn’t realised it until now, but he’d missed the other man, and knowing what he was thinking. Seeing his side of things. He’d always respected Ryan’s opinions, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with them.

He looked up at Ryan, wordless but pleading, and after a moment Ryan’s face softened a bit.

“You and Michael,” he prompted. “It all worked out, then?”

Ray blinked, not having expected that turn in the conversation. Word must have spread somehow, and he gave a small nod. It felt strange for others to acknowledge that relationship out loud, to keep remembering that it was _real_ , now.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess it did.”

Ryan gave a slow nod.

“That’s good,” he said. “At least we have one happy thing.”

“Nothing’s really happy right now,” Ray murmured, and bit his lip. He’d kept the calmest of all of them so far, because he hadn’t been as close to Geoff. But the whole situation, and the loss of the other man, and the constant _misery_ of it all were starting to get to him. “Not with Gavin, and Jack, it’s… you can’t ignore all that. You know?”

He touched his chest, meeting Ryan’s eyes - knew that he felt it too. Since they entered the Wild the bond had been so heightened that it didn’t seem like they were just feeling each other’s life force now. He had a constant sense of sadness and dread that he was certain was coming from the others, the magic in all of them spreading and mingling together, creating some terrible, lingering feeling of shared grief.

Ryan just nodded, acknowledging it. He wasn’t saying much about the situation, but Ray knew that was how he did things. Quietly, and without a fuss - keeping most things inside. He was the same way. He understood that - and it only meant that although he was with Michael, now, he felt something towards Ryan as well, just like he had with Gavin. Just like he sometimes thought he might with Jack, after all the help the other man had given him.

_And Geoff?  
_

_I suppose it doesn’t matter now._

And then, of course, there was how Ryan acted with Gavin. Ray knew they’d talked about things, and he’d seen Ryan bringing Gavin down from the tower earlier, leading him to Dan’s room - his arm wrapped around the other man’s shoulders, hugging him tightly to his side.

Not to mention _Michael_ and Gavin - he’d been trying not to think about that, because it was plain for anyone to see that Michael loved the other man, even if he’d never said it. Even if he probably didn’t even realise himself yet (something, it seemed, he was very good at). They would have to talk about that at some point, probably. Things were complicated even if they were together now - but everything was so new that Ray didn’t want to bring it up. To fuck this all up before it could even begin.

He shook himself. There was enough to deal with right now without adding their relationship drama to it. But Ryan was looking at him expectantly, and after a moment Ray sighed.

“I don’t want us to never see each other after this,” he admitted, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

“Trust me, that won’t happen,” Ryan replied - almost _kindly_. “I’m planning all sorts of things.”

Ray laughed, startled and awkward, but relieved.

“Well that’s not ominous at all,” he said, and Ryan gave a small smile.

“Nothing that exciting. Prepare to sign lots of documents and stamp lots of seals.”

An alliance, then - they really were going through with all that. Ray nodded, glad.

“Oh, fun, fun, fun,” he said. And then, because he still wasn’t sure about Ryan leaving, “So what are you actually going to research?”

Again, that odd hesitation crossed Ryan’s face.

“It’s probably nothing,” he replied, carefully. “Don’t get your hopes up. Gavin, before… he left the compound. Went out into the forest to look at the portal again. He reopened it.”

“What the _fuck_?”

“I know. It was stupid. But before, during our first attack on it - when he went to close it, he heard a voice from the other side. It was Midas. He spoke to him - he’s still living there.”

“Why didn’t you tell us all this?” Ray demanded. This was such a sudden new development that he had no idea what to think.

“I only found out when he got back from going out there the second time! He reopened it to talk to Midas in case he knew something that could help Geoff. But he didn’t, so he closed it again. But after he came back - before Geoff died - I sat him down and he told me everything that Midas said to him. There was nothing concrete, but there are a few things that I just want to look into. I have the resources in the Stoneworld.”

Ray looked at him for a long moment. He still didn’t quite understand exactly what Ryan was going back to do, or why it had to be _now_ , or why he still got the funny feeling the other man was being secretive about something. But it wasn’t the time or place to pester him with questions, so he nodded.

“Okay,” he replied. “I trust you. Stay safe - although it looks like there’re no Wither left out there. I guess we finally got them all. But still, what you said about Midas and the portal… that might cause problems. Means this isn’t over yet, if he is still on the other side doing fuck knows what. I’ll see you soon?”

Ryan nodded. He gave Ray another small smile before climbing on his horse and riding off out the gate, vanishing into the thick trees of the Wild. Ray stared after him, and realised there weren’t even golems with him, he was in such a rush. Whatever he was looking into, it had to be something important.

He shook his unease off. He _did_ trust Ryan. Michael seemed to have been getting along with him better lately, too - and Jack always had. With a sigh, he turned away.

It kept feeling, now that he was paying attention, like they might all have come together - if only Geoff hadn’t been taken, and they hadn’t already fallen apart.

 

* * *

 

It was late afternoon by the time Ryan reached the Stone capital. He’d ridden as fast as he could through the harsh terrain of the Wild, fixated on his goal - on the idea that had come to him abruptly, that he didn’t know if he could trust. For one of the few times in his life, he was reacting based on his gut instinct.

Before long he was galloping through the streets of the city, golems ushering people out of his path. He saw flashes of confused faces watching him go by, people trying to bow, heard their murmurs - but ignored them all, heading for the fortress as fast as possible.

Mica and Kerry were waiting for him. He spoke to them briefly, informing them that the portal was neutralised now, of Geoff’s death, and that he would be back soon to run things. Both of them were stunned - especially at the news of the Plains king - but he trusted them to work out what to say to the people, and hurried on his way.

As he rushed up towards the living quarters of the fortress, he passed numerous councillors and noblemen who called out to him. They looked annoyed, even if they were trying to hide it, and he knew he had a lot to deal with, and soon. Everyone except Gavin did - their courts would be growing restless having their leaders away for so long, and in such a dire situation. None of them could stay in the Wild forever. He’d ignored his own people too long - but it would be fine, he told himself. He’d deal with them soon enough.

Right now, there were bigger things on his mind.

The bustle of the hall and courtroom were left behind him as he moved up and up towards the most private levels of the castle - where the royal chambers were. He passed his own room, where he hadn’t slept in weeks now, and continued down the hallway until he paused outside a door he hadn’t opened in years.

His mother’s room.

Even just standing outside it had a sudden, intense unease welling up in him. A chill prickled down his spine - he felt like he was being watched, like no matter how long it had been, her presence lingered. He couldn’t help looking over his shoulder - the corridor behind him was empty, of course, but the flickering redstone light on the carpeted floor and ornate stone walls still seemed ominous, and heavy with ghosts.

_She is gone,_ he told himself firmly. _But she may have left the answers you need_.

Still. He hadn’t been in here since she passed. He’d ordered the servants to pack all her belongings away, but otherwise the door had remained firmly shut. He’d never been able to bring himself to use the room again. Even after all this time, the mere sight of the door made anxiety rise up in his chest until he struggled to breathe.

He could still remember how he’d used to gather himself before knocking on this door. How he’d wonder what the latest scheme or plan she wanted to tell him about was - how many people it would hurt this time. He remembered the sight of her, standing before her hearth in flickering red light, a tall and imposing woman who carried herself like a soldier, with uniformly precise movements and steel in her eyes. And he remembered, worst of all, how he’d felt the night he’d poisoned her - standing outside her door just like he was now, trying to bring himself to enter. Knowing that tonight, it would all be over. That soon he would be king.

He pushed the thoughts away and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and remembering what had brought him here.

_The Nether_.

It had taken him a while to remember it. But after Gavin had returned, he’d sat the other man down and had him tell him everything Midas had said to him. Gavin had been apathetic and dull, after whatever had happened between himself and Geoff. Even so, he’d gone back into the memories of the Endermen who’d gone with him, and from there recited exactly what Midas had said to him. Ryan had written it down and pored over it for a long while, but it had taken him some time to realise what had bothered him about it - what the last thing Midas had said before the portal closed was.

_There is much you don’t understand. The neither-_

_Neither_ , Gavin had told him. But the more Ryan looked at it, the more he couldn’t work out what Midas had meant. It made no _grammatical_ sense, more than anything.

Gavin had been so distracted at the time, so worn down, that Ryan had figured maybe he had misheard. And that was when it’d struck him - not neither. _Nether_.

He didn’t know what the word meant, but he knew he had heard his mother talking about it, in the times when he’d attempted to eavesdrop on her, catching bits and pieces of things she had never directly told him about. _Nether_ had cropped up several times after she began cutting him out of her plans - when he thought she was starting to suspect him of disloyalty, and she’d spent more and more time around her generals and nobles, the people she did trust who were just as cruel as she was. He’d never worked out what it meant, and he’d killed her before he had a chance to find out.

But the times he had heard it…

It’d been in top secret meetings with only her most trusted inner circle, and from what he’d gathered in his attempts to listen in, it had been about the possibility of her own impending death, her own assassination. Together with the rest of what Midas had said…

_The portal exists between worlds._

_Death merely means passing from this plane._

_The Nether._

As he’d realised earlier - it was a gut feeling, more than anything. He was hardly about to get his hopes up, or go off on any wild, fanciful daydreams - but somehow, somehow he couldn’t help thinking that this was important somehow, that it was _some_ sort of lead, that he needed to at least _try_ to understand things. For his own peace of mind, if nothing else.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

The room was dark inside. It smelt faintly musty, a wave of cold, stale air hitting him in the face as he entered. He fumbled at the wall and turned on the redstone light - as the room slowly lit up in crimson, it looked just as he remembered, thin stripes of redstone that stretched across the floor and crept up the walls in weaving geometric patterns flickering to life before his eyes.

The servants had packed away all of Queen Haywood’s personal belongings. Her huge desk, stretching along one side of the room, was bare, and the large and imposing bed against the far wall was stripped of its sheets. But to his left, the hearth lit up with redstone and cast a wash of light over the empty bookshelves that lined the walls, floor to ceiling. He paused, hit with a wave of intense nostalgia.

He remembered spending time in this room when he was young, lying on the floor on the cowskin rug, reading the history of the kingdom from any of the volumes he could reach. Poring over maps, drinking in as much information as he could. He’d gained an interest in science from those books, talking of the Stoneworld’s technology and resources. For quite some years this was where he’d done all his reading - until he grew older, and began to turn to the library instead, as he heard whispers around the court from visiting philosophers or historians and realised that the books were only telling part of the story. Always casting the Stoneworld in the best light, not revealing much about the other kingdoms. A one-sided history.

He turned and froze, looking at the floor beside the desk.

That was where she’d lain, choking. He remembered how the wine had spilled across the floor like blood. How he’d stared impassively down at her as her fingers curled and grasped after him and the breath wheezed frothily from her lips.

His chest felt tight again. He was breathing too fast, his heart pounding, and with great effort he shook the memories off and turned away.

There were crates stacked at one side of the room where the servants had cleaned up, their lids open. He crossed over and sat on the floor, beginning to look through them. Queen Haywood’s possessions were carefully, neatly packed away, and he looked through several boxes before realising that these were just personal effects. Clothing, jewellery - not much of that, she’d never cared for trinkets - but he paused as he opened one pouch and pulled out a necklace that he remembered used to intrigue him as a little boy. A smooth, shining piece of redstone on a simple but sturdy gold chain - he remembered it as the first piece of redstone ever created by their original ancestor. That was what he’d been told, in any case. It had been passed through their family, worn by whoever ruled at the time. A token of the ongoing, unbroken Haywood reign.

His mother had worn it for so long that he’d always associated it with her. He’d never been able to bring himself to take it, even after she died.

But now, a wave of nostalgia hit him at the sight of it, as he remembered how he used to stare at it around her throat, intrigued. He suddenly, acutely missed the times before he was old enough to understand his parents’ errors. When he was young and blissfully ignorant and simply longed for their praise and attention.

He remembered the days when he’d finish his lessons early and beg his mother to take him with her on her daily duties. If she was in a good mood, she’d let him as long as he stayed quiet, and then briskly cart him around the entire castle with her, or let him ride in the carriage beside her as they went out into the city.

They never talked much - she’d basically ignore him, and Ryan would always be on his best behaviour and quiet as a church mouse anyway. He couldn’t understand anything she spoke to her councillors about, but he used to delight in watching her go around and do all her official business. Especially when redstone was involved - watching her create it, the light shining, the warmth, the _pride_ in his heart - the joy he’d take when, after she was finished, she’d sometimes let him pick out a rock and hold it as she touched a finger to it and it slowly transformed.

She had not been a good woman.

But she had been his _mother_ , and when he was too young to understand everything that was happening, even through the strict lessons and reclusive upbringing… when he was little, _that_ little, he had loved her.

He swallowed the lump that’d suddenly risen in his throat, and slowly put the necklace back in its bag, pushing the box away and turning to see what was in the others. Before long he found what he was looking for - the contents of her desk and redstone safe.

He’d already read through most of her bigger plans and schemes when he first inherited, knowing he’d have to deal with the council and wanting to know who to be wary of. But there were some things he hadn’t thought relevant at the time, and had laid aside.

He turned to those plans now, looking through box after box until he finally saw the word _Nether_ written on something, and froze before rummaging through the crate, laying everything out, and beginning to read.

_Fucking hell._

The box was filled with journals and plans - diagrams he could only marvel at. Books, too, that he’d never seen in their library or any other before - ancient leatherbound texts with whisper-thin pages and writing in odd runes. There were translations slipped between the pages in various hands - letters it seemed she’d written to scholars across the five kingdoms asking for their help with translating.

He pored over the documents, eyes widening as he read, as before his eyes an entire strange, dark world he’d had no idea about opened before him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, after what felt like hours had passed but he realised he’d only barely scratched the surface of what was here in this box. “Fuck, okay.”

His heart was pounding just at the possibilities of what he’d read. And the grief flooding the bond was still there, but washed out from distance and his distraction. The _emptiness_ was still there, because _Geoff, oh, Geoff-_

But maybe his gut instinct had been correct. And the science behind what he was reading now wasn’t proven, he had no idea where all this had come from-

But maybe, for once, he had something to fight hard enough for to take a chance, and let them _hope_ , because if they were about to do what he thought they were about to do, hope was something they were going to need to put a hell of a lot of trust in.

Because if he was right - if this was what he fucking thought it was-

Everything might not be so lost after all.


	16. Chapter 16

The pyre was a distressing, ominous sight - an enormous pile of dark wood stacked high in the clearing out the front of the Wild castle. The tangled, gnarled branches, nearly black in colour, made it seem more like the beginning of some hellish witches’ ritual than something laid out for a king’s funeral.

Still. It _felt_ like a funeral, with the crowds congregating around the stack of firewood - except for the fact that half of the attendants were mobs, neat rows of creepers, draugr and zombies standing in lines, their empty gazes fixed on the kindling. The Endermen stood in a row at the back, looming over everybody solemnly and casting long dark shadows that only unsettled Michael further as he looked at them.

This was not a funeral like the ones they had in the Alps. They burned the bodies there, too, but there were great roaring ceremonies - dances and songs and cries like they were about to go to battle, everyone in full armour. Afterwards they’d all get extremely drunk.

The energy of those funerals was not here. Neither was there the same tight, formal solemnity of the royal Desert ceremonies - he’d attended that one when Ray’s parents passed away. Instead, there was something quite surreal about this one - with the looming dark forests around them, and the great crowds of monsters looking on, and that feeling that they were all very far away from home. So he stood, staring at the empty pyre, knowing what was about to happen, a funny tingling buzz of magic crawling over his skin - still feeling that emptiness in the back of his head now that Geoff was gone.

Still. Something about it suited the Wild. Nothing here was quite _normal_ \- sometimes, Michael still wondered if these last few weeks had all been some strange nightmare.

But no - this pain was very real. He turned away from the firewood and looked around until his eyes fell on Jack.

He couldn’t help but admire how composed the other man was. The intensity of his grief was clear in his face - he looked like he’d aged twenty years overnight, and there was such a deep _pain_ in his eyes that it made Michael ache to look at. But he’d remained remarkably calm, focusing himself on concern for his people and the future of his kingdom. Even now, he stood tall, as he discussed something in hushed tones with a group of his soldiers. In his hands was the Plains crown - it seemed he and Geoff had brought it with them.

Michael bit his lip as it hit him that Jack was about to join them - to finally become part of the bond.

Part of him almost felt like that had already happened. Like it wouldn’t be strange, or new, because it _already_ felt like Jack was part of things, he’d always been so close to them. Already fit in seamlessly, all that was missing was the magical side of it.

But without Geoff, Michael thought miserably, things would always feel like they were missing a piece.

More soldiers were arriving from inside the castle, gathering into orderly lines according to their delegations. The Wild folk had also emerged, coming from the forests with armfuls of wildflowers - Dan wasn’t with them. He’d gone to join the Plains soldiers, and Michael realised with a jolt that although he still wore his creeper skin clothes, he’d put pieces of the Plains armour back on over them. It created an odd mix - he clearly wasn’t quite sure where he fit in here. He’d known Geoff so well, yet wasn’t on his side now.

The two of them had never had the chance to make up.

Jack and Dan had talked things through, but Geoff and Dan hadn’t - it made Michael’s stomach sink to realise that, now, they never would. Just one other thing that they’d never had time for.

_Fuck_.

“You okay?” Ray murmured in his ear, and Michael turned to meet his dark eyes, soft with concern. The two of them were standing a little way apart from everyone else, and it was comforting having Ray so close by his side.

“Yeah,” Michael murmured, but he knew he must look sad. He just couldn’t believe Geoff was _gone_. It kept hitting him over and over. Now and then, other things would distract him, but as soon as he had a moment to think, his mind fell back to it. _He’s dead._ Dead. _You’ll never see him again. None of you will. Jack will be king now. He and Gavin will never get the chance to be with him._

The thought made him sick. It must have shown on his face, because Ray reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently.

There was a slight commotion nearby, everyone turning to look at something. Michael turned too, and froze as he realised that Gavin was emerging from the castle, and everyone was watching him.

Ray squeezed his hand tightly - Michael squeezed back, another pang shooting through his chest.

He hadn’t seen Gavin in a long while. Not since before Geoff had died - he’d been holed up in Dan’s room, and Jack had said not to disturb him. After what’d happened with the creepers, Michael was pretty damn worried about the other man.

Now, Gavin slowly walked out of the building. Everyone had gone silent when he appeared, and he brought with him a heavy, sad presence, like a dark cloud was following him around, some invisible magic that made everyone he passed feel tired and dull. His steps were slow and even, and he stared ahead of himself vacantly - not only that, but he wore a simple white shirt, and it was so strange after being used to seeing him constantly in his scarf that he almost looked like an entirely different person. Michael’s gaze trailed over him; his thin neck, the sharp lines of his collarbones - he didn’t look like Gavin. He looked like a ghost.

Jack was wearing white too, Michael realised, and the soldiers had white scarves, though most of them were yellowed and dirty from their time on the road. Their heads turned to watch Gavin as he passed, heading straight for Dan. As he moved by Michael and Ray, he didn’t bother to even glance at them. His eyes were horribly red, standing out in his ashen face, and surrounded by dark wells like bruises. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Dan moved forward to meet him. He drew him into a tight hug, holding him close for a moment. Gavin stood limply, barely lifting his arms to hug him back - after a moment he leaned up and murmured something in Dan’s ear. Dan nodded before turning and beckoning some of the other Plains soldiers. They went back inside the castle, and everyone returned to their business.

Gavin turned and came over to Michael and Ray, who both stood, staring at him in concern. All the kings would stand together for the ceremony, Michael knew. He expected Gavin to ignore them, but to his surprise, Gavin lifted his head as he came up to them.

“Ryan’s still not back,” he said. His voice was flat and exhausted. It hurt to see him so devoid of life and energy. Even before, there had always been _something_ fuelling him. Anger, or desperation. Now there was just - nothing. Not a glimmer of hope left.

“No,” Michael replied. “Not yet. We’ve had no word from him since he left yesterday. Are you okay?”

Gavin shook his head, not even bothering to fake a laugh. Michael bit his lip - beside him, Ray’s face had crumpled, upset, and he moved in and tugged Gavin into a hug. Gavin leaned into his touch, burying his face in Ray’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist - Ray brought a hand up and carded it gently through Gavin’s hair.

Michael watched them. He couldn’t help but notice that there was something oddly intimate about the two of them - something funny and easy and comfortable that wasn’t normally there between Ray and other people. The other man was reserved and not usually that tactile with anyone other than Michael - but he seemed perfectly comfortable with Gavin. Michael hadn’t realised the two of them had gotten that close.

As he watched, they pulled apart and stared at each other, some silent communication passing between them as their eyes met. Ray’s face was gentle and concerned, his hands still resting against Gavin’s sides.

Anyone else might have been jealous, Michael thought. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought there was something between them. But nothing like that stirred in himself - all he could think was that that was how _he_ looked at Gavin, too. How he felt even now - wanting to touch him, to comfort him, to wrap his arms around him and do anything he could to take his pain away.

After a moment, he stepped forward. Gavin turned to him, and moved just as easily into his arms. By now, the warm swell of magic between them was familiar as they embraced. It had a tinge of bitterness, both of their grief cutting deep and mingling together as they got close, but it evened out as Michael hugged him tightly, his own love for the other man doing its best to wash out every other negative emotion.

When they pulled apart, he reached into a pouch at his belt and fumbled out a small flask, pressing it into Gavin’s hand. Gavin looked down. He didn’t smile, but he did meet Michael’s eyes with something a little more amused in his face, giving him a quick nod before taking a swig from the bottle. He coughed a little, and Ray wrinkled his nose.

“Gods,” he hissed. “I can smell that from here!”

“Yeah,” Gavin croaked. “That’s bloody powerful.”

Michael just shrugged.

“What?” he asked. “Geoff would’ve approved. The stronger the better.”

_That_ made Gavin huff out a laugh - but it was teary, and after a moment he lifted the flask again and took another long drink, gulping down the liquor without stopping. Michael and Ray exchanged a concerned glance, but let him be. It came too easily to settle back into position with Gavin between them, both of them close enough to touch him - Michael’s arm across his back, Ray’s hand resting gently on his arm.

Gavin didn’t seem to mind. Even after he put the flask away, he stayed close to them - close enough that, a moment later, they felt his entire body tense up when a long, low blast rang out from the one of the Plains’ war horns, and everyone turned to see Dan and three other soldiers bearing the body of the king out of the castle.

A sudden coldness descended over Michael. He tightened his arm around Gavin involuntarily, tugging him closer as another mournful blast echoed through the clearing, like the wounded cry of some mystical animal. It sent a chill down his spine. Everyone had fallen silent as the pallbearers slowly walked by.

The Wild folk had done a good job cleaning up Geoff’s body. They’d dressed him in his armour, his wounds hidden away under neat bandages, his face dusted with a faint blush made him look less pale. If Michael hadn’t known better, hadn’t still been able to feel that emptiness, he might’ve mistaken him to be sleeping. The body itself was covered in colourful wildflowers, arranged around his form and covering him like a blanket. It looked like he’d merely fallen asleep in some meadow.

Somehow, seeing him lying there didn’t feel real. It made an odd calm settle over Michael; there was something so surreal to actually _seeing_ the body, to knowing it would never get up and move again, that there was no life left in there. He felt stunned, and a bit hollow, but somehow weirdly at peace.

Apparently this wasn’t the case for Gavin. He was staring at Geoff as he passed, eyes wide - and as the men walked by he suddenly doubled over and curled in on himself, arms wrapped around himself tightly as a horrible, choked sort of _wail_ tore out of him. It was the only sound in the silent clearing and everyone turned to look.

The noise made Michael shiver. He could feel Gavin’s pain through the bond, a nearly physical pulse like a throbbing wound, a deep septic shock under it all. Jack was still standing by the pyre, but his head had snapped up. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to rush over and comfort Gavin, but Michael and Ray were already moving in, wrapping their arms around him and pulling him close. Maybe that would have seemed undignified, like they should all have been standing there with straight backs and blank faces - but they weren’t in any court. They were in the Wild, and this was their _friend_ , and there was nothing but sympathy on the soldiers’ faces.

“Shhh,” Michael soothed, tugging Gavin close to his chest - he could feel him shaking, breath heaving in and out in ragged sobs. Ray was pressed to Gavin’s back, stroking his hair. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay-”

“It’s _not_ ,” he heard Gavin say, but the other man couldn’t seem to get any other words out.

Michael didn’t know what to say. All he could do was hug him closer, arms wrapped around him protectively as he looked over his shoulder to find them setting Geoff down in the middle of the pyre.

It was Gus who’d come up with the idea to burn the body.

It would’ve taken far too long to carry it all the way back to the Plains. Michael remembered doing the same thing for his fallen soldier the last time they were here in the Wild. As soon as they crossed the border, they’d burned it. It would be far easier to bring just ashes back home, to intern in some tomb. There’d probably be a statue made, at some point.

With the body laid down, everyone got back in position. Michael met Ray’s eyes and gave a small nod - Ray passed Gavin over to him and stepped forward, closer to Jack and the others. An ominous silence fell as everyone waited for someone to take charge.

Finally, Jack cleared his throat. His eyes were red, his shoulders tense, and he was avoiding looking at the body at all. But his voice was loud and clear, if a bit shaky, as he announced, “Should we wait for Ryan?”

“I’m not sure how long it will be until he returns,” Ray replied. “He said it could be some time.”

“The crowning can’t wait,” Griffon added - her eyes were fixed on Gavin, but after a moment she turned back to Jack and gave him an intense look. “No one ever delays inheriting, for good reason. We need five kings - five gifts.”

Jack glanced at Michael and Ray, who nodded - it was never nice when things were out of balance. Even throughout the entire games, there’d been a terrible sense of _delay_ \- a need for someone to just put the damn crown on as fast as possible. Finally Jack sighed, and nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. He took a deep breath and turned to face the people. “Dan?”

The soldier who’d been holding the crown passed it to Dan, who stepped forward. After eight months in the Wild, it seemed a bit strange for him to be the one doing the honours, but none of the others seemed to mind. Michael was sure that Jack had his reasons.

Dan took the crown and stood facing Jack. An odd hush fell over the clearing, everyone watching, breathless - even Gavin had calmed, and turned in Michael’s arms to watch.

“Jack Pattillo,” Dan said, his voice ringing out loud and clear. “You are decreed by Geoff Ramsey as his chosen successor to the Plains throne. Do you swear to lead the people of the Plains according to their best interests and the laws and customs of the court?”

“I swear,” Jack replied. His voice was quiet and firm, but there was something almost vacant in it. Like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and some part of him was functioning almost on autopilot.

“Do you swear to uphold both justice and mercy in your royal judgments?”

“I swear.”

“Do you swear your loyalty to your citizens, army and court, and understand that the gift you have been given comes with the weight of duty and responsibility?”

“I swear. I do.”

Their eyes met for a long moment, and Michael saw Jack heave a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Then Dan gave a solemn nod.

“By the will of the gods and the power of their blessed gifts, you are crowned ruler of the Plains kingdom. May your reign bring peace, prosperity and progress.”

Jack got down on one knee, and everyone leaned in to watch. It struck Michael that this was the first time in a very, very long time that the Ramsey line had been broken.

_They never got to marry._ There seemed something suddenly terrible and tragic about all that. Jack had been so calm, so composed this whole time, and Michael hadn’t had a moment alone with him yet. But he realised, suddenly, just how much he must be _hurting_ now.

And he knew, too, the physical pain Jack was about to be in as he accepted the gift. But unlike Gavin, Jack was prepared. He knelt, head bowed, perfectly calm as Dan lowered the crown onto his head.

It seemed to pass far quicker than Gavin’s coronation had. In the light of day and surrounded by friends, there was something less haunting about the pulse of white light that shot out in a ring, washing over them in a flood of pure magic that made Michael’s heart race and his skin tingle.

Jack’s jaw clenched. He let out a strangled groan, curling in on himself, his whole body shaking - but there was some hidden strength in him. He was trembling, but somehow still remained on his knees, one hand out and bracing himself against the ground.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe it was the Wild, or that he was just more aware of magic nowadays, but the entire clearing seemed filled with some sort of electricity. His blood felt like it was singing in his veins, and slowly he could feel Jack easing his way into the space Geoff had left, a comfortable, familiar presence that he felt like he already _knew_ , even if Jack had never been part of the bond before.

Jack let out another cry, throwing his head back - Gavin suddenly pulled away from Michael and jogged over to his side, crouching next to him and reaching out to hold him steady. Jack’s hands came up, gripping Gavin tightly, holding himself upright. A moment later, the white light shot back into him and he slumped into Gavin’s arms.

Michael’s ears were roaring. The entire thing seemed to have happened in a matter of seconds - maybe because he was dreading what he knew was coming next. The funeral pyre, and their final farewell to Geoff - but for a moment he was distracted, all of that wiped away by his sudden, heightened awareness of Jack.

Everyone had always felt different, through the bond. He still remembered the previous Wild king, even if he’d never met the man. There had been a dangerous darkness to him - something damaged and ruthless. Michael had never liked to focus on their strand of the bond.

Geoff had always had a flaring passion to him - raw, honest emotions. And when Gavin first joined, he’d been different too, a completely new sensation - something volatile and changeable, feeling everything too deeply, flitting from one thing to the next as quickly as possible as though afraid to stop and let himself _be_ anything for too long.

Jack, now, was completely different. There was something very steady to him, reassuringly stable. But because he was so new, Michael could feel everything he felt with a heightened edge. His fear, his pounding heart, the enduring _sadness_ under it all. Panic and nervousness at his new responsibilities - desperate attempts to rationalise everything in his mind, to tell himself he’d prepared for this, that he’d always known this day might come.

Their connection felt strong - stronger than it’d been with Gavin when he first joined. Like Jack had been here all along, anyway.

Gavin’s hands were framing the other man’s face, and Jack gripped the front of his shirt as he got his breath back before finally looking up and meeting Gavin’s eyes. Michael saw Gavin stroke his cheek before pulling him to his feet, Jack wavering unsteadily and holding onto the other man for balance. But then he turned, and faced the crowds, and Dan turned too, lifting his chin.

“Long live the king!” he yelled. His voice was raw and ragged, after the stress of the last few days - but there was something fierce to the cry, and after a moment he dropped to his knees.

The Plains soldiers followed suit, genuflecting and thumping a fist to their hearts, the clap of their gloves on their armour chest-plates ringing through the air.

“Long live the king!” they repeated.

Michael swallowed. Some intense emotion had risen in his chest at the sight of Jack, standing staring out at his people - Gavin close by his side. In the overcast morning light their white shirts seemed to glow. The crown suited Jack, as he stood with his head held high. Even with his eyes red-rimmed and the tired lines of his face, he held himself strong - and after a moment, turned and held out a hand to Michael and Ray.

They glanced at each other, then walked over to the others, moving to stand in a line before the funeral pyre. As soon as they all got close to each other, the magic of the bond seemed to swell, building up in Michael. It felt like when he used his gift, when he called on that superhuman strength - something unnaturally powerful tingling in his veins; dormant for now, but capable of rising up and bursting out. Not quite complete, though, not yet. After all, they were missing one king.

But there was no time to wait for Ryan now. Griffon was striking a spark with a piece of flint and a bit of tinder, using it to light up a flaming torch. It was time to burn the body.

Michael’s stomach sank as he watched Jack’s composure falter for a moment. But he pressed his lips together and moved forward to the pyre, crouching beside Geoff to say some final, private goodbye. Michael looked away, not trying to listen in - he could see Jack’s shoulders trembling, and feel the waves of his grief washing through the too-sensitive new bond. He saw Jack reach up and grip one of Geoff’s cold hands for a long moment, his head bowed low. He stayed there for a long moment, hunched over as though in prayer.

Ray reached out and squeezed Michael’s arm. Michael turned to look at him and found the other man’s face pale, his eyes bright with tears. Ray had been quite calm this whole time, and Michael knew he’d not known Geoff as well - but this sight, it seemed, was too much for him, and Michael pulled him close, tucking him into his side. He felt Ray clutch at his shirt with one hand - not crumbling, not burying his face and hiding away, still remaining as composed as possible. He always had been far more conscious of staying detached and regal. But now, it seemed, he needed some sort of support, even if it was just Michael moving closer and putting an arm around him.

Finally, Jack rose. His face was hard, his eyes exhausted and dull, but he held out a hand, offering Gavin to move up to the body next.

Gavin froze. Michael saw the panic that flashed across his face as he finally brought himself to look at Geoff. He looked away again immediately and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” he heard Griffon ask. This was Gavin’s last chance to say goodbye - but it seemed like he couldn’t bring himself to. He shook his head again and Barbara moved in from the side, taking his wrist and pulling him a few steps back, wrapping her arms around him as Griffon turned and passed Jack the lit torch.

Another hush fell over the clearing as Jack took it and stepped towards the body. Michael’s heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, his breath coming too fast. He clutched Ray’s hand tightly as Jack moved forward - haltingly, like he was forcing every step - and began to lower the torch towards the kindling.

“ _Wait!_ ”

The desperately loud yell made them all spin around - it was only then that Michael registered the sound of hoofbeats. Against the dirt ground they’d barely been audible, especially given how distracted everyone was. But now Ryan rushed in, out of nowhere - he looked dishevelled and tired, still in the same clothes he’d left in, his hair flying in bits and pieces out of its ponytail. He leaped off his horse as soon as it came to a halt and ran forward, hands outstretched.

“Stop!” he yelled again. Michael had never heard him so out of control before. He came over to Jack and practically snatched the torch from his hand, throwing it to the ground and stamping the flame out as everyone stared at him, aghast.

“What the _fuck_ , Ryan,” Jack began, eyes wide- Ryan stood, staring back at him, breathing so heavily that Michael could see his chest and shoulders heaving. Murmurs had started up in the crowds now - Gavin’s mouth had dropped open, Ray’s eyes were huge.

“Wait,” Ryan repeated, and swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “Fucking hell. The last thing you want to do is _burn_ him!”

“Why?” Griffon demanded, and Ryan turned to her.

“Because,” he replied, slowly, “He’s not gone yet.”

 

* * *

 

Jack fidgeted as they stood around the table in the throne room. Everything felt new and raw, like all of his nerve endings were tingling with some constant sensation.

He could _feel_ the others in his head. Even if he’d tried to imagine this a thousand times before, somehow nothing was quite like actually feeling it. The sensation was indescribable - all he knew was that he was now intimately connected to all of them, bound by something unexplainable. He could feel their lives against his - and there was something reassuring about that.

After Geoff passed he’d felt strangely isolated. Gavin knew how he felt, but even then, he’d been connected to the others, and he could tell that Michael and Ray could feel his pain and were trying to comfort him. But Jack had been alone - to be fair, he’d been focusing as hard as he could on his work to distract himself.

But now, _finally_ , he felt like he was one of the others, and not just because he was a king. It was all he’d ever wished for - except that he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. Not when Geoff was gone.

Or was he?

He was still in shock from Ryan’s announcement. The other man had bundled them all into the castle and had now laid out an enormous variety of books, diagrams and sheets of parchment covered in scrawled writing and pictures. Jack could only stare at it all, dazed and overwhelmed and unsure exactly what the fuck was happening.

The others seemed just as stunned, waiting silently for Ryan to explain. Once he had everything laid out in front of them, he took a deep breath, clasping his fingers together in front of his chest. His hands were shaking, Jack noticed vaguely. He was more worked up and jittery than Jack had seen him in a while.

“Okay,” Ryan said, finally. “Okay.”

“What the fuck is all this, Ryan?” Ray asked, and Ryan turned to him.

“I went back to the Stoneworld to research,” he explained.

“Research _what_?”

“Gavin,” Ryan said - he turned to the other man, who was standing with his arms wrapped around himself, staring blankly at the documents on the table. He jolted at the sound of his name, eyes snapping up to Ryan. “When you told me what Midas said to you, you mentioned something that I’d heard before, but couldn’t place. The _Nether_.”

Gavin stared at him, then shook himself.

“Did I?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I… I don’t remember. I was barely paying attention.”

“Exactly, which is why it took me a while to catch onto what he’d actually said. I thought you said _neither_ at first - but then I remembered, years ago, when I was spying on my mother’s secret projects, hearing her talk about something called the _Nether_. I had no idea what it was, but if Midas mentioned it, I thought it might be important. I went back to her rooms and dug up all her old plans. And then I found all this. Part of a project she never trusted even me with, that she began to work on when she suspected that someone was going to turn against her, that her life might be in danger.” He paused, and took another deep breath before saying:

“Necromancy.”

It took a moment for the word to register. When it did, Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

_No._

_He can’t be serious?_

It was impossible. That sort of black magic was something he’d heard whispers of, but never believed in - everyone had dismissed it as impossible, or if not, then _unnatural_. Against the gods. He’d never even considered the possibility of bringing Geoff _back_ from the dead - had never thought Ryan, of all people, would subscribe to something like that.

He was so shocked that he had absolutely no reaction, staring at the others instead - they all looked just as surprised as him. After a moment, Ray shook his head.

“That’s impossible,” he began.

“Maybe, but people sure tried,” Ryan replied. “Again and again, preoccupied with the idea of… of _resurrection_. And my mother sought all of them out. Sorcerers and scientists alike - some of them were frauds. Some of them more genuine. A few of them, witches operating from the Wild, managed to muster up magic and use the respawn points that mobs utilise to try and bring people back. But it never worked - they were twisted, mindless creatures, little more than zombies. It seemed impossible. But shortly before she died… there was one proven case.”

“You’re not fucking serious,” Michael said - but Ryan looked perfectly serious, and Jack knew that he wouldn’t be telling them this if he didn’t think they could actually use it. That he wouldn’t give them false hope, not like this.

_Oh my gods,_ he thought. It still wasn’t quite registering, but his stomach felt tight and nervous at the possibility.

“The Stoneworld was close to the Wild. My mother had secret expeditions going out there constantly, researching this - even after the witch necromancers were fruitless, she discovered something else. What seemed to be a zombie, but conscious. Able to talk, and speak, and outside of the control of the Wild king.”

“That’s impossible,” Gavin spoke up. “I can see into the zombies’ minds. They’re like animals. They’re not sentient, not like that.”

“Exactly,” Ryan said. “It was an anomaly. So she brought it in to research, and it turned out it wasn’t a zombie at all. It was one of the previous Wild queens who had died, and come back.”

He gestured to one of the diagrams on the table, and they all huddled in to look. A series of overlapping circles were drawn - most of them empty, but a few labelled. In the very centre was what was clearly their own world, with the five kingdoms listed out on it. In a further circle was labelled _The End_ , and in the overlap, _Endermen_.

Ryan was pointing to another circle - _The Nether_. In the overlap, _death_.

“The portal exists between worlds,” Ryan said, slowly. “That’s what Midas told you, isn’t it, Gavin? And he described death as _passing from this plane_. I don’t know what else my mother was researching, but the idea of different worlds, different _dimensions_ , accessible by portals or teleportation or any other means… wherever Midas is, I don’t think it’s the only other world out there.”

“So what’s the Nether, then?” Jack asked, speaking for the first time. Ryan looked up and met his eyes - there was a hope burning under there that made Jack’s own heart lurch.

“The Sight removes your soul from your body through magic,” he replied, slowly. “That’s how the gift works. The magic the crown gives you when you inherit means your soul can be sustained outside of your corporeal form, and return to it later on with no ill effect.”

“That’s true.”

“The Nether is another plane,” Ryan replied, “Where kings pass after they die. Not just kings - anyone with magic. Witches, I suppose, are the only others we know of. Their consciousness is maintained through their magic and they instead pass out of this world and into the Nether.”

“How do you know this?” Ray demanded.

“Because that talking zombie told my mother. As I said - she wasn’t really a zombie at all. She was a previous Wild queen who this happened to - she went to the Nether, but managed to escape and come back, except her physical body had decomposed. Hence why she was mistaken for one of the mobs. She didn’t survive long after that - in her weakened form she contracted an infection and died soon after, but she told my mother more than enough. She spoke of a hellish world ruled by some dark overlord who imprisons and enslaves those magical beings who pass through. People can earn their way out by completing enough tasks for him - when they are too worn out to work further, he sends them through another portal to whatever other afterlife exists for the non-magical.”

His finger traced over another circle on the page.

“But the queen managed to escape. As far as we know, she’s the only one - maybe there were others, but their bodies had rotted away and they ended up trapped in some void. She spoke of a secret exit. I presume another sort of portal. But if it’s a way out, then it’s presumably also a way _in_. That’s all there really was - most of these documents are my mother’s unsuccessful attempts with necromancers. But if these things about the Nether are true…”

There was a long silence as it dawned on everyone exactly what this meant, a thrumming tension rising up in the room. Jack saw Ray and Michael exchange a glance - Gavin’s eyes had widened, his gaze still fixed on Ryan, lips parted a little, barely daring to hope.

Jack’s own heart was pounding. He didn’t know what to think, was scared to let himself _hope_.

“You’re saying we can get him back,” Michael said finally.

“I’m saying we can try,” Ryan replied. His head was bent over the papers, but he looked up now, a blazing determination in his eyes. There was the powerful Stone king that Jack knew. “We already know one other dimension exists. Why not more? Who knows if humans can cross through without dying… but we can find a way, or build one. We _have_ to. We’ll need to work together, investigate throughout all the kingdoms for the answers we need… there are lots of leads here that my mother never finished looking into. I’ve already got a list of people to talk to and ideas about where to start.”

He met Jack’s eyes, waiting for him to say something. Jack’s mouth had gone dry. He still couldn’t quite let himself believe it.

But Ryan wouldn’t lie.

Ryan was smart, the smartest person he knew. If he thought this could work…

“But I took the gift already,” Jack said, unable to think of much else. “If he came back… how would it work? How long will it take? His body-”

“I can preserve it in redstone,” Ryan said, the word coming out quick - _excited_. “The gift will sort itself out somehow. But if I seal his body in it won’t decay. It will buy us some time. We just need to hope that if this is true, and he _is_ in this Nether world, then he holds on and waits for us - or maybe he’ll try and escape himself.”

Jack nodded, slowly. He realised that a slow grin had spread across his face - after a moment, Ryan smiled too.

“We can actually do this,” Jack said. “We could actually… we can get him _back_!”

“I really think so,” Ryan said. Jack could have lunged across the table right now and kissed him. A slow joy was building up in him, his previous grief melting away as he settled on some new determination - because if they were going to do this, he _had_ to believe it, _had_ to hope.

Someone laughed next to him, and he turned to see Michael grinning too, practically bouncing up and down.

“Ryan, I can’t believe this!” he said. “You’re a genius!”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Ryan said. “We need to look into this more-”

“But you’re right,” Michael cut in. “There are other worlds. So it’s completely plausible. We can get him _back!_ ”

He turned to Ray with a big smile, only to freeze. Ray wasn’t smiling - his arms were folded, his face thoughtful.

“Ryan,” he said, softly. “Are you _sure_ about this? Because if it isn’t true, if it doesn’t work…”

His doubt made Jack’s stomach sink. It had been hard enough to lose Geoff the first time. If they got their hopes up only for them to be shattered once more… he wasn’t sure he could take it.

“Not to mention,” Ray continued, “We’ve spent enough time here investigating the portal. If we pour more resources into this, take even more time… we have to think of our kingdoms.”

“No one understands that more than I do,” Ryan agreed. “But if Midas is out there, if there are these other worlds, if one portal and so many beasts have already appeared, we need to be continuing to research this. Staying on top of it. That’s worth the resources and the effort.”

“Geoff’s worth the effort,” Gavin cut in. He’d been very quiet until now, but when Jack looked over his eyes were blazing, something fiercely determined in them. Michael reached out and squeezed his arm, and Gavin nodded back at him.

Ryan was nodding too. His eyes were still fixed on Ray.

“I would not be telling you this if I didn’t firmly believe it was possible and worth looking into,” he said. Something passed between them, and finally Ray nodded.

“I trust you,” he said quietly.

There was a moment of silence. Then Jack heard laughter, and realised it was _himself_. Relief, sadness, still, about how Geoff wasn’t here with them - but under all that, _hope_ , a hope he hadn’t thought he’d be able to feel again. It had been such an up-and-down ride of emotions the last few days that he felt a bit hysterical now.

“Come here,” he told Ryan, and moved in to hug him before the other man could protest. Ryan froze, then hugged him back. After a moment, he started laughing too - funny, quiet little chuckles that Jack had never really heard from him before. In the corner of his eye, he saw Michael pulling Gavin and Ray towards him. The bond surged warm but this time all he could feel was the others’ nervousness, excitement, that same _hope_.

All five of them were here, and the crown bond was complete, but something was still missing, a nagging absence in his heart if not in the bond.

_Geoff_.

_But not for long,_ he thought. He trusted Ryan. He would let himself hope. _We’re going to get him back_.

 

* * *

 

Ryan had so much to do, yet without a clear starting point he felt overwhelmed - like he was wasting time, like there was so much he hadn’t even begun yet, too many leads to follow and no idea where to start.

Still - he set that aside for a moment. The planning could come later, when he was back home. For now, he’d put his mind to checking his theory that he could seal Geoff in redstone to preserve his body.

He’d seen this done in the museums of the Stoneworld, rare animals and plants kept frozen for display, never decomposing. But he’d never attempted it himself, and now he was testing it on some plants. When he was done, then he could begin writing out a plan for where they all needed to go from here.

The Wild castle had a little more life and noise in it now, as the men packed up and began to prepare to return home. The mobs were building again, or half of them were - Gavin had taken the others to do a final sweep of the jungle, ensuring that all the Wither were indeed gone and that the portal was closed before everyone headed back to their own kingdoms.

They weren’t going to destroy it, not yet.

He, Michael and Gavin had had something of a debate over it. Gavin wanted it gone, Michael was on the fence, but Ryan had convinced them that it was best to keep it, for now. He thought they might need it, now that they knew Midas was on the other side, that they might need to stop him again…

The portal wasn’t just the Gold king’s means of getting to their world. It was _their_ means of attack too, if they eventually felt the need to go on the offensive. As long as they kept it closed and guarded, they should be fine. It might even help them with getting to the Nether, if need be.

Now, Ryan sat out in the gardens, experimenting with the plants. He probably made a very strange sight, sitting here in the dirt and mud. It was a far cry from his usual pristine, composed image, but he was past caring.

He’d just carefully covered a flower in rocks and frozen it into redstone. As it grew translucent he could see the flower, imprisoned in what he _hoped_ was an airtight slab of redstone. He peered at it, squinting, when a shadow fell over him and he looked up.

Ray.

The other man had paused at the sight of him. He was staring down at Ryan, a funny look on his face. Ryan managed a smile, and beckoned him.

“Ray. Good - come and help me with this. Is it completely sealed in?”

Ray shook himself. He sat down next to Ryan, sinking into the dirt flowerbed heedless of how it muddied his clothes and cape. He picked up the flower and turned it over in his hands before closing his eyes. Ryan felt the tingle of magic in the air increase as the other man called on his gift.

Finally, Ray nodded.

“Seems to be,” he replied. “It feels preserved, sealed in - I can’t get to it or change anything about it. I think it will work.”

“Good.” Ryan took the redstone back and squeezed it. It glowed and shattered away into dust. The flower was left in his hands, fresh and flexible - he toyed with the long stem, winding it between his fingers, conscious of Ray’s eyes on him. “You seem unsure about this.”

Ray’s eyes widened, caught out. After a moment he gave a sheepish sort of smile.

“I am. I’m sorry if it seemed like I doubted you back in that meeting.” His finger traced aimless patterns through the dirt as he chewed his lip, thoughtfully.

“I do trust you, Ryan. I’m just… scared. Bringing someone back from the dead… you realise how it sounds, right? And what you said, about how all the previous rulers would have gone to this Nether place… Michael’s and my parents died pretty fucking recently, Ryan. It hurt a lot at the time and part of our comfort was knowing that they went to… to heaven, I suppose, or some permanent afterlife. First we realise the gods aren’t real, now _this?_ Heaven, too? Humans die, that’s what happens. What’s gone is gone, you get over it, it’s in the past… you start to heal. You get over things.”

Ryan watched him, patiently. Ray’s voice was desperate and raw - but as always, there was something thoughtful under the words. His fears weren’t unfounded, and when he finally looked up and met Ryan’s eyes, there was a sincere concern in his face.

“Bringing people back is meddling with something beyond our power,” he continued. “It’s not just unnatural, there’s a reason people don’t do it. It’s not _meant_ to happen. I’m sure you’ve heard of those who quested for immortality - kings and queens spending decades and endless resources trying to prolong their own lives, usually sacrificing others along the way. It only ever ends in tragedy and ruin.”

“This is different,” Ryan said, quietly. “For a long time, I didn’t believe in magic. Even now, no one quite knows how it works… souls, consciousness. I don’t doubt that death itself is irreversible. That eventually it’s permanent, that we pass on into some _end_ that no one can ever come back from. But maybe… maybe for those who have magic in them, that _death_ comes a little later. Instead, there’s a middle stage, if you will. A last chance.”

Ray nodded. That did seem to have reassured him - he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“I’m just worried,” he added, “That if we invest a lot of time in this, Jack and Gavin will get their hopes up. And if it fails, it will break them.”

“So we won’t fail,” Ryan replied immediately.

Ray stared at him for a moment. Then he began to laugh.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” he said.

“What?” Ryan demanded, a touch indignantly.

“Nothing, just… when you get all determined like that.” Ray shook his head, wiping at his eyes, and added, “You’re a good ruler, Ryan.”

Ryan frozen. There was something so sincere in it, so genuinely warm, that he couldn’t help the way it touched him. Once he might’ve argued, or brushed it off. Now he let himself duck his head and give a small, hesitant smile.

“It means a lot when people say that,” he admitted.

“I do mean it,” Ray insisted. “Finding all this out about the Nether…”

“We can thank my mother for that,” Ryan said, and huffed, his good humour fading at the reminder of her. “Working on this in secret… of course she would be. I guess it never worked for her in the end, or she’d’ve come back by now… unless she already did.”

He paused, as the horrible thought struck him.

“Fuck, that’s horrifying, isn’t it? Waking up in a grave, alive again but buried. Dying slowly for the second time, trapped in your own tomb, no one realising you’d come back, your body probably partway decomposed…”

He trailed off. It was awful to think about. He’d buried his mother in the Haywood’s stone vault with all their previous ancestors. If she had come back, she wouldn’t have lived long, trapped in that dark pit.

Yes, he had killed her. But he’d never wanted that level of suffering.

Ray looked horrified.

“I’m sure it didn’t happen,” he replied. “If it did, it wasn’t your fault. Wasn’t _anyone’s_ fault but hers, if she didn’t tell anyone her plans. It must have been hard for you, going back and looking through her things.”

Ryan remembered suddenly that Ray knew what he’d done to his mother. Geoff had told him. But there was nothing but gentle sympathy in the other man’s eyes now, no judgment or disgust. He found himself trusting that that was real.

“It had to be done,” he replied simply.

“I know,” Ray said, “But thank you for doing it. No one would have asked you to.”

He hesitated, then suddenly shifted closer to Ryan along the ground, looking up at him earnestly.

“Geoff was the king that everyone looked up to,” he continued. “But Ryan… you are too, you know. For me, at least, and I think for a lot more people now. You’re strong, and wise, and this whole trip you’ve held things together and moved us along. With Geoff gone, whether we manage to get him back later or not… you’re the most experienced one, now.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Ryan said, half-joking, only to freeze when Ray suddenly laid a hand over his, folding their fingers together and squeezing gently. It was a surprisingly tender, intimate touch, and he had no idea what the fuck to do.

“I just mean that we look up to you,” Ray said, softly. “All of us, even if we didn’t before. Even Gavin, in some ways, even if he thinks he’s doing things his own way here in the Wild. And since we started working together on this, you’ve only given us more reasons to.”

Ryan stared at him, unable to look away from those dark eyes, that gentle smile. His head was spinning, and he was too aware of Ray’s warm hand, still on his.

“Thank you, Ray,” he replied finally.

Ray just smiled wider. Ryan realised suddenly exactly how close they were to each other. He could feel the bond building up between them, something different to all the other emotions he’d felt before - something warm and _fond_. It was swelling to some peak, and he knew Ray must be able to feel it too. There was something too intimate about it - but the other man didn’t pull away, out of reach. He just looked down, then up again, and licked his lips almost nervously. It made Ryan swallow hard, uncertain suddenly.

“What are you doing?” he blurted out. Ray looked at him questioningly, and Ryan added, “You’re with Michael.”

That made Ray pull back, snatching his hand away almost guiltily. He drew his knees up, uncertainty flashing across his face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, then, “He… he loves Gavin. There’s still that. I don’t know if he realises it, but he makes no secret of how affectionate they are.”

“And what do you think about that?” Ryan asked, because Ray’s previous anger and jealousy was absent despite the words he was saying.

“I like Gavin a lot,” Ray said, immediately. He seemed to realise he’d replied a bit too quickly, and groaned, reaching up to run his hands through his hair. “I… I don’t know. Things are confusing right now. Michael and I should talk about it, but I just… I don’t want to ruin things so soon after we finally worked them out. Is that selfish?”

  
“I don’t know,” Ryan replied, quietly. He was the last person to understand the best course of action for these relationship issues.

Ray seemed unfazed.

“And you?” he pressed, looking intently up at Ryan again. “How do you feel?”

Ryan hesitated. Being asked so directly forced him to _think_ about it, and suddenly it struck him just how complicated things had gotten without him even realising it.

Because there was Jack, and how much he _liked_ the other man, and how even now he wanted nothing more than to get closer to him, to help him with his new reign, to give him every support he needed and more. Not just that, but how he craved the other man’s approval and affection - how he’d seen the way Jack looked at Geoff, and wished he had that too.

But there was also Ray, and how ever since they met something had drawn him to the other man. And Gavin, of course - now that he’d explained himself, all Ryan’s previous fondness for him was slowly returning, and he couldn’t stop it. He still _wanted_ him, even if he was struggling to admit it.

And Michael? The two of them had gotten closer, and Michael’s simple acceptance of what’d happened with Queen Haywood made Ryan trust him perhaps the most of all the others. They’d fought alongside each other, and their practice with the bond meant Ryan had somehow started feeling the strongest magical connection with him.

_And Geoff, of course. You cannot forget Geoff._ It didn’t feel like the other man was gone, now - maybe it just hadn’t sunk in, or maybe Ryan had already convinced himself that they were certain to get him back. But after laying their animosity aside… Ryan enjoyed his company, respected his leadership, and regretted that they hadn’t had more time to see how things might’ve developed.

_All five of them,_ he realised. _There is something with every one of them. How can that work?_

“You’re right,” he said, aloud. “Things are confusing - with _all_ of us.”

Ray let out a little snort.

“Tell me about it,” he replied. “But if it’s all of us… that should make it easier, right? We’re all in the same boat.”

“I suppose that’s one way of thinking about it,” Ryan replied, uncertainly, but Ray gave a sudden firm nod.

“The blood of the five kingdoms,” he replied, and Ryan froze as he remembered what Gavin had told them of the original rulers. He could tell Ray was thinking about it too, as he continued, “The magic of the tower is very powerful - and more powerful united than apart. Maybe no one realised it until now, with the kingdoms so separate and at odds with each other. But we are bound together in ways that no one else can understand. Gavin told us how it was before - how the rulers are meant to work together, in harmony. And we _will_. Can you feel it? The balance between us. Until you all inherited, I never understood it. I think it was Gavin that did it, having the Wild kingdom actually on our side at last. But there is something here that there never was before. And it’s powerful, Ryan. It scares me sometimes - but it draws me in, too. I want to see how far it can go.”

Ryan could only stare at him. Ray’s words struck some chord in him.

Every time he felt the pull of magic between them since entering the Wild, it’d frightened him. For so long he’d never let anyone in, and the thought of someone so easily entering his mind and sensing his emotions was terrifying.

But at the same time… being so _close_ to the others… there was something about it that was nearly addictive. He wanted more, too.

All he could do was nod. He didn’t know what to say, but Ray just smiled, and reached out and squeezed his hand again.

“Things are coming together,” he said, softly. “Everything is changing. I thought it was all going to fall apart, before the dragon appeared. Everything felt so wrong. But as soon as we were all here together… once Michael and I made up with each other… it all changed. It felt good. It felt _right_. But now Geoff’s gone - if we can bring him back…”

“A second chance,” Ryan murmured, and didn’t mean just for them. For the kingdoms, and the crowns, and a world that had been forced apart for too long.

The words filled him with a new hope suddenly. One that he’d never felt growing up, as he drew away alone and cynical, as his plans for the kingdom progressed but lacked some extra _meaning_.

“Exactly,” Ray replied.

He looked down, and Ryan followed his gaze. In the dirt around them, tiny white flowers had sprung up, scattered between the glowing pebbles of redstone from the piece Ryan had created before. He hadn’t even realised he was making them shine warm and bright. Together, the flowers and rocks shimmered prettily in the afternoon light, like sparkling, hidden gems in the dirt.

The background noise of the soldiers and mobs around them was somehow soothing, the smell of fresh strong herbs hanging in the air. After all the grief, and pain, and chaos of the last few days, it was a rare moment of peace.

Soon they’d have to go back to work. But for now they sat, drinking it in, and when Ray inched his hand over to brush against Ryan’s again, he didn’t pull away.

 

* * *

 

A funny sort of melancholy settled over Michael as he surveyed the bags and bundles he’d finished packing up - as he watched his men, some distance away, make the final preparations to the horses, gathering the last supplies for the trip back.

It was time to go home.

He was headed back to the Alps - and Ray to the Desert. It would be a couple of months until they saw each other again. They had to take charge of their people, their armies - arrange alliances, begin investing in research about these portals. Wait for Ryan to contact them about what they each should be doing. Convince the courts that they _should_ trust the Stone king.

He wished they didn’t have to separate.

It seemed like months ago that he’d been longing to leave the Desert, and Ray, behind. It was hard to believe it had barely been a few weeks. And now, more than ever, he didn’t want to be alone.

_Curse the distance_ , was all he could think. Jack, Ryan and Gavin were all so far from him, and only Jack had the Sight. Their duties lay at home, but his soul longed to stay with the others. After working together here, it seemed unreal that they were about to part again.

He snapped out of his reverie as he noticed Gavin’s party of mobs returning from their expedition. Gavin himself was at their head, riding on his giant spider. He dismounted as they got close, and Michael moved to meet him.

“All clear?” he called out.

Gavin looked up. He was still wearing his white shirt from the funeral, his scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. It was a strange mish-mash of outfits that made him look out of place. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair lank and unwashed, his beard unruly. Michael had expected him to be bouncing around, excited that they were getting Geoff back. Instead he was still oddly subdued.

He nodded, though, forcing a smile for Michael as the other man came up to him.

“No more Wither skeletons. I guess we finally killed all of them. I’ve left Endermen guarding the portal, and set traps around the basement.” He shifted, rubbing his arm a bit awkwardly. “I suppose that means it’s safe for all of you to go back home now. The threat’s neutralised.”

“For now,” Michael muttered, ominously.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Where’s Jack?” Gavin spoke up.

“I’m not sure. I was actually about to go and talk to him. Since the meeting I haven’t seen him.” Michael frowned a little. Jack had been so calm this whole time that it was hard to tell what he was thinking - especially after Ryan’s revelation. He’d run off - to go practice the Sight and try to contact Lindsay, Michael presumed - and no one had seen him.

Gavin pulled a face at that.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” he replied. “It… it’s weird, isn’t it? We were in mourning for about one day and now it’s just all fine.”

“It’s very strange,” Michael agreed. The emotional whiplash was pretty intense; he was excited and happy but the lingering ache of grief was still there. It had all just been so _sudden_. He still kept remembering that despite their quest, Geoff wasn’t here _now_ \- was still lying dead in the castle hall, an empty shell of a body. His soul elsewhere. “I… I guess I don’t really know what to think.”

“For Jack, it has to be really hard,” Gavin murmured. “Losing the man you’re in love with, who he’s known since they were just little children… I can’t imagine how difficult that was. And to just as suddenly be told that you _might_ get him back again… fuck. It must be intense.”

_Intense for you, too,_ Michael couldn’t help but think. After all, Gavin had loved Geoff as well. He was still haunted by the memory of those echoing explosions through the Wild, of Gavin’s horrible scream at the funeral. The raw _pain_ in it all. He moved closer and took Gavin’s arm - he’d been looking away, staring vacantly out at the Wild, but he turned to face Michael, now. Was he imagining it, or were Gavin’s eyes darker - that blazing emerald light dulled and faded?

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked, and Gavin looked away.

For a moment, his face crumpled, and Michael saw him force himself back under control.

“I’m scared to hope,” he admitted, softly. “I trust Ryan. And I want more than anything to get Geoff back. And I’ll try _everything_ to do it, I’ll fight as hard as I can, I’ll go as far as I need to, to get him back. Because losing him hurt so much, Michael, I can’t… I realised just how much time we’d wasted. How we would never be able to get it back, to do things differently, to _have_ something.”

Michael bit his lip. He remembered what an awful shock it had been to see Ray fall off the cliff when the Wither attacked them - for a second, to think he might’ve died, that it might be too late for them to make up.

Ray had been fine, but they’d wasted no time after that. But if he hadn’t been fine…

He knew how Gavin felt. His own story had had a happy ending - Gavin and Jack didn’t have that chance. Or at least, not until now.

“I’m scared,” Gavin continued, “Because now that Ryan’s brought this up, we _have_ to do it - or _we’re_ the ones that failed him.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. He could tell why the others might have some trepidation about this idea - especially so soon after all that had happened. He could only hope that in time the shock would wear off and they’d all be able to focus properly on their goal. As it was, after a moment Gavin shook himself.

“Anyway,” he said. “Are you ready to go home? You must miss it. I heard you were in the desert before all this.”

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Michael found himself replying. Gavin looked surprised, and Michael said, “I wish we could all stay together. That there was some way we didn’t all have to rule from so far apart. Especially now, when everything’s changing so fast, and Geoff’s _gone_ , and we’re all relying on Ryan for what to do next… I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to leave Jack on his own, or not be with Ray. I’m gonna miss you, too.”

Gavin’s eyes had widened a little.

“It won’t be long until we see each other again,” he pointed out.

“Still,” Michael said. There was something almost defensive in it - he felt too vulnerable suddenly, like he’d admitted too much. Normally he never cared what anyone thought of him, let alone Gavin, who’d always been so easily accepting. But now he was looking at Michael strangely - he hesitated, then blurted out:

“Ray said you have a crush on me.”

Michael did a double take, the words taking a moment to register.

“ _What_?” he cried, finally.

“We were talking about it, and he told me. He said it seemed obvious. That you treat me differently. He didn’t care,” Gavin added - maybe because of how alarmed Michael must look. “And then he kissed me. We just wanted to see what it was like - if it made things clearer for both of us. It must’ve, because you two ended up together after that.”

Michael stared at him, flabbergasted. He honestly had no idea what to say. It’d been obvious Ray and Gavin had gotten closer - but _this_? Not to mention, his own involvement - where the fuck had Ray gotten the idea that he liked Gavin?

Of course, now the idea was in _his_ head. He’d taken long enough, after all, to realise he was in love with Ray - but he remembered how Gavin had told him about the different types of love. It’d happened so slowly with Ray that he hadn’t even noticed it. But with Gavin, things had always been different - brighter and stronger and clearer.

_Fuck_ , he thought.

And then, registering the other thing Gavin had said - _they kissed_? Of course, he was _imagining_ it now, and just the thought made something churn in his stomach. Jealousy, he supposed - but of which of them? _Or of neither of them?_

It’d taken him far too long to acknowledge he liked Ray. But now, as he considered _Gavin_ , and how nice it had been to see him again, how much the other man had helped and understood him, how deeply Michael cared about him, how he wanted to protect him…

It was everything he felt for Ray, just undercut with something different since they hadn’t grown up together. Something fresh and new and a little more adventurous. He thought of the day they’d spent exploring the Stone kingdom back during the games, or how it’d felt to see Gavin for that first time after eight months.

_I do like him_. It dawned on him, and he thought of how obvious it must’ve been to everyone else - he’d never been one to hide his emotions, after all. _Fuck, no wonder Ray always got jealous._

Gavin saw the look on his face, and laughed.

“You’re not stupid, Michael, but you really can be oblivious sometimes!”

“Fuck you,” Michael shot back immediately, but his heart was pounding and without even thinking about it, he stepped towards him. There was something teasingly intimidating about it, as Michael crowded into his space, but Gavin just stared at him with those big green eyes, a faint smile still lingering on his lips.

He wondered what had been going through Ray’s head. Who had initiated the kiss - if Ray had been as gentle and tentative as he always was with Michael - if he’d thought about him at all, or if he’d been focused solely on _Gavin, Gavin._ If it had been an attempt to get payback, or if he was just being arrogant to think he’d been involved at all.

He wanted to be involved.

He wanted it to be all _three_ of them, in this moment.

“I suppose,” he said, voice low, “That the only way to make it even is if I kiss you too.”

Gavin gave another laugh, a little strained this time. Michael was close enough to feel him shiver when he leaned in a bit closer - he hesitated, remembering suddenly that with Gavin, it wasn’t just about him and Ray. _Jack. Geoff_.

“Sorry,” he began, stepping back so he could look Gavin in the eyes. “Would that be too much? After… after Geoff, and everything-”

He broke off when he saw the flicker of guilt and grief cross Gavin’s face as it seemed he, too, thought about it. Gavin hesitated, but then looked away, biting nervously at his lip.

“It doesn’t feel like he’s dead,” he said. “Not after what Ryan said. Maybe it’s… dangerous, to think like that.”

“I don’t think so,” Michael replied easily, fiercely. Maybe it was easy for him; the Alps were a superstitious place, believing strongly in omens and fate and witchcraft. If Ryan said they could get someone back from the dead, fuck, Michael trusted him blindly. After all, Ryan could do fucking anything with his science, right? And even more when magic got involved. “He’s not dead, not really. We’ll get him back.”

Something about the confidence in his voice seemed to make Gavin believe it, too. He saw the fire light up in the other man’s eyes again, and the next thing he knew, Gavin was leaning in and pressing their lips together.

There was something impulsive in it, despite all the lead-up. He could tell as soon as their lips connected that Gavin was immediately uncertain - but he didn’t pull back, and after a moment he gripped Gavin’s wrists and tugged him closer until their bodies were pressed flush together, and the bond swelled fever-hot as though he was sinking right into Gavin’s mind, enveloped in his excitement, and nervousness, and faint lingering grief that was quickly washed away by the distraction of Michael’s skin against his.

He’d imagined this before, even if maybe he hadn’t registered it. But he’d _noticed_ things about Gavin - their slight difference in height, his narrow frame, his odd mix of jaunty confidence and underlying shyness - all of it proved true now as Michael kissed him roughly, pulling back to tug gently at Gavin’s bottom lip with his teeth. He relished his soft gasp, and pressed back in harder. Gavin let him take control, but a moment later seemed to have the presence of mind to twist a wrist free from Michael’s grasp and bring it up to gently touch the side of his neck instead.

Instantly Michael squirmed away, batting his hand off.

“Sorry!” Gavin squeaked, but Michael couldn’t help it; he burst into a fit of laughter.

“No, you’re good, just - I’m fucking ticklish, don’t touch my neck suddenly like that.”

Gavin stared at him. He looked good, Michael couldn’t help but notice, with his lips red and swollen and a blush high on his cheeks - but a moment later, a loud laugh rang out behind them, and they both jumped and spun around.

Ray was standing there, watching them. Michael had no idea when he’d come up, but his stomach dropped.

“Ray,” he began, guiltily - but Ray just kept laughing, shaking his head.

“Fucking gods. That was a mess. Ours was better, right, Gav?”

Gavin just stared between the two of them, gaping, seeming unsure quite what to think. The sight of Ray smiling made Michael’s shoulders relax - especially when a moment later, Ray came up by his side and linked their arms, pressing his own kiss to Michael’s cheek.

“About damn time,” he said, so fondly that Michael could only let out a shaky, relieved laugh. After a moment, Gavin hesitantly smiled too.

“Sorry,” he said to Ray. “I… I should have asked if you two had talked about this before I-”

Ray waved a hand, silencing him.

“I was never gonna bring this up. Too chicken. But now it’s happened, so… does this make things simpler, or more complicated?”

“Simpler,” Michael said immediately- after all, if Ray was on board, and Gavin was too, then-

“Jack,” Gavin blurted out suddenly, the smile gone from his face.

_Oh,_ Michael realised. He’d been so distracted he’d almost forgotten. This was bigger than the three of them - Ray had sobered too, now, and Gavin looked away, seeming agitated.

“More complicated, then,” Michael murmured, and Gavin huffed. There was a long pause as he seemed to gather his thoughts. Michael was glad for Ray, close by his side, warm and reassuring.

Finally, Gavin looked up and took a deep breath, looking between them. They stared back, patiently. Michael felt almost bad at what he must be seeing; the two of them, apparently both interested in him. And each other. And gods knew who else, at this point.

But Gavin slowly shook his head.

“I’m glad things are clearer now,” he said. “And I… I think it’s pretty obvious that there’s something _here_ ,” he gestured between the three of them, “And I like that we all know it, that we’re all on the same page, at least. But I… I have to sort myself out and figure all this out in _order_ , now that Geoff’s gone. Starting with Jack. Starting with getting Geoff back - knowing for sure that we _can_. Or if we can’t, then coping with that. Because right now it’s… it’s all up in the air, you know? You shouldn’t build a castle on unsteady ground.”

“Of course,” Michael said, softly - beside him, Ray was nodding.

“You’re right,” he added. “There’s too much going on. Please, Gavin - don’t let us be another problem on your shoulders. Of course you and Jack need to work things out first. Of course whatever happens with Geoff, you’ll need time to cope with it. In the meantime, we’re all good. Right?”

Gavin looked startled that they’d been so easily accepting. Then his cheeks coloured, seeming flustered again.

“Right,” he replied. He darted another look at them - both smiling easily at him - and turned away, leaving in a rush and murmuring something about going to find Griffon.

Michael and Ray were left standing together in a slightly awkward silence. Finally Michael turned to Ray to find him looking after Gavin, something thoughtful in his face.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, hesitantly. For a moment, when he’d seen Ray watching them, pure terror had shot through him, wondering if he’d ruined everything.

But Ray just laughed.

“I kissed him first,” he pointed out, and took a deep breath. “Like Gav said, there’s… there’s something there. We’ll figure it out. But yeah, now’s not the time - for him, or for us, probably.”

Michael nodded. There was more to this, he knew - like Ryan and how close he knew Ray was with him. Like Jack, and how he had only just joined the bond. Like Geoff, and how they were _going to_ get him back, of course they were, but once they did, everything would change.

But still - a fear had eased. Even with all that, he wasn’t going to lose Ray. Not to anyone else, not to their own insecurities. For now, at least the two of them were here. But soon they would go home, and he turned to Ray, and tugged him closer, and kissed him while he still had time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanart! Thank you guys so much, these are amazing <3
> 
>   * [WTLG Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/150146078924/sexy-death-eater-well-alright-then-i-have) by sexy-death-eater
>   * [Gavin fights the beast](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/150166829979/birdscribbles-dropping-the-torch-he-reached) by birdscribbles
> 

> 
>  
> 
> also, conlinforthewin made [these](http://8tracks.com/conlinforthewin/you-were-the-person-i-cared-about-most-in-the-world-1) [awesome](http://8tracks.com/conlinforthewin/just-until-i-fall-asleep) [fanmixes](http://8tracks.com/conlinforthewin/three-days). thank you! :')


	17. Chapter 17

Jack opened his eyes and shuddered as he adjusted to returning to his own body.

He remembered how long it’d taken Geoff to get used to the Sight. He’d had to practice for a long time just to travel smoothly within the Plains, let alone to other kingdoms. Jack had expected to have the same problem, but he’d been surprised just how easily and quickly he was able to use the gift. It’d only been a few tries before he managed to get back to the Plains to speak to Lindsay.

He thought maybe it was because he was in the Wild, and he’d been steeped in magic since coming here. It was the only reason he could think of why his gift felt so strong and he could use it so easily, despite having only just inherited.

 _You have taken to this role too easily_ , he couldn’t help thinking. He’d been by Geoff’s side so long that he knew exactly what needed to be said and done now. It made things simpler, yes, but at the same time he loathed it. He’d never wanted to be king.

Lindsay had been horrified and upset to hear the news of Geoff’s death - but that had only lasted moments, until Jack told her of Ryan’s plans to get him back. She was concerned, of course, but they’d talk about it in person soon.

Jack knew she couldn’t tell what to think.

He still didn’t know, either. Part of him was excited, determined - the rest afraid to get his hopes up, because it would only hurt more to lose Geoff again. It left him in an odd limbo, half grieving, half clinging to the need to _believe_.

_Where are you now, Geoff?_

He’d never believed that the soul disappeared after death. Whether the Nether was real, or there was some other afterlife - there was no way Geoff could just disappear, be gone entirely. Somewhere, surely, he was witnessing _something_. Happiness and peace, if heaven was real - or the Nether, if it wasn’t, if what Ryan had said was true. It hadn’t sounded like a very pleasant place, and it felt strange to hope that he _was_ there.

_But you’re out there somewhere._

_And we’re going to come for you. Just hang on._

It hurt that if Geoff was in the Nether, he probably didn’t know that the others even knew about it, let alone that they were going to try to come and get him.

The sound of footsteps made him look up. He’d been sitting in the main hall at one of the dining tables, and Ryan was approaching from outside. Jack shook himself and rose to meet him.

“How did it go?” Ryan called out.

“Better than I expected. I think the Wild’s magic has made it easier to use - I got to the Plains and spoke to Lindsay with no trouble.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ryan replied. He paused in front of Jack and looked at him for a moment, something concerned in it. Jack gave a small smile. He knew the others were worried about how he was holding up - he could feel it, tingling through the bond, especially when Ryan was standing so close. It was touching - though honestly, he wasn’t sure how he felt. During the funeral he’d wanted nothing more than to curl up in a dark room and not speak to anyone for days, to just hope that the pain would dull and fade on its own somehow. But he knew that was impossible - royal duty came first.

After Ryan’s announcement, he was still torn. But they had too much work to do for anyone to slow things down.

“It’s time,” Ryan said, then. “I’ve practiced it a few times and the redstone seal will work. Better to do it as soon as possible.”

Jack nodded, taking a deep breath as he readied himself. It had been hard enough coming to the decision to burn Geoff. Preserving his body only seemed even stranger, somehow - like if all this failed, it would make it harder to let him go.

 _You’re not going to fail_ , he told himself, because Ryan looked so _certain_ , and he trusted him - probably more than he trusted anyone else - when it came to determining if something like this was even _possible_.

“Thank you for this,” he said. “I mean it.”

He found himself reaching out and clasping Ryan’s hands in his - Ryan looked down, eyebrows rising, but he didn’t pull back like he once might have.

“It’s nothing,” he replied.

“No, it’s not,” Jack said. “You don’t owe our kingdom anything. You don’t owe _Geoff_ anything. Yet you’ve helped us so much here. If this succeeds, we will be unspeakably in your debt.”

Ryan swallowed, then shook his head.

“Life isn’t always about debt and repayment,” he replied, and then looked away before adding, hesitantly, “That’s not what _friendship_ is about.”

Jack couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face - Ryan darted a shy glance at him, then gave a small smile back.

“It means a lot to hear you say that,” he said. “I know you and Geoff got off to a bad start, but at the end he really had some… some affection for you.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it, but Ryan seemed to understand. His eyes softened, and he nodded.

“So do I,” Jack continued, and swallowed, a lump suddenly rising in his throat. “He… he’d be so pleased to see us working together.”

Ryan squeezed his hand back.

“No need to past-tense it yet,” he said, and Jack huffed out a laugh, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.

“I know. Sorry. It’s just… I’m afraid to get my hopes up, but… I’m willing to try this. I’m willing to try _anything_.”

Ryan nodded.

“I understand that,” he replied. “It must be hard. I can’t even imagine. But no matter what happens, whether we get him back or not, the rest of us are here to support you. You have powerful allies, Jack, more than any king has had before. And a lot of that is of your making. This entire time you’ve tried harder than anyone to bring us together. I didn’t even realise how much you had succeeded until now. But we will not make the same mistakes as those before us. The crowns are meant to be united - I think we all see that now.”

Jack smiled. Their eyes met for a long moment, and he couldn’t help the way something in his chest swelled warmly. He’d always liked Ryan, even throughout the other man’s feud with Geoff. He was glad he’d been proven right, and hoped that this new friendship would be as helpful to Ryan as it was to him.

“Jack?” a voice called, and they both turned to see Gavin entering the room. His eyes fell on their hands, still linked, and Jack pulled away from Ryan and turned towards him. Gavin came up close. He looked like he’d been crying, Jack noticed, but didn’t comment on it.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked. They hadn’t really spoken since the funeral.

Jack nodded, and pulled the other man into a hug. They embraced for a long moment, arms tight around one another. Jack could feel Ryan’s eyes on them, watching closely. When they pulled apart, Gavin kept his hands on Jack’s arms, staring up at him in concern.

"Did you use the Sight?” he asked.

"Yes,” Jack replied. “I told Lindsay what’s going on, but we’ll talk more in person…”

He trailed off, working up the courage to ask Gavin something he’d been thinking about since the funeral. Gavin stared at him encouragingly, and Jack continued.

“Gavin… are you coming back to the Plains with me? You could, you know. We can plan what to do next together.”

Gavin’s eyes widened, and Jack waited, trying not to betray how nervous he felt. Even if they were going to get Geoff back, he didn’t know if he could handle being alone. Having Gavin there would be an immeasurable comfort. And after what had happened, he didn’t want to waste any time - didn’t want to spend another second apart if they didn’t have to.

Gavin opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Ryan stepped forward.

“I’m sorry,” he cut in, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea. I might need him here in the Wild to control the mobs, to do things to help in our investigation… or to assist me with things in the Stoneworld. As I investigate these leads, we’re going to need people in every kingdom to help out, and it would be far more efficient if everyone remained where they were for now.”

Jack understood, but he still couldn’t help the slight flare of annoyance - a knee-jerk reaction, especially after what’d happened during the games between Ryan and Gavin. He hated himself for it, but couldn’t help it - after all the stress he’d been under, he’d wanted this one thing.

But he quickly swallowed it away, and took a deep breath - Ryan was right. It made sense, and he could tell from how apologetic he looked that he wasn’t doing this to hurt him.

“Of course,” he said softly, only to pause when Gavin reached up and touched his cheek gently.

“I would have come back, after this,” he told Jack, his voice quiet and sincere. “If Geoff hadn’t died. To visit, to stay with you again for a bit, even if I kept ruling here. There were times I really wanted to go home. And later, after we sort all this out, I will return, I promise.”

Jack nodded. He curled a hand around the back of Gavin’s neck and tugged him in, kissing him on the top of the head. It wasn’t enough, wasn’t what he wanted - but for now it was all he had. He could see Ryan watching them again, a funny look on his face. When they pulled apart, the Stone king clapped his hands together sharply.

“Let’s go and get this done, then,” he announced. “The sooner we begin, the sooner we can save him.”

 

* * *

 

Geoff had been taken off the pyre, and now lay on a stone slab behind the Wild castle, in the shade of one of the overhanging balconies. They stood, watching in silence as Gavin had the mobs bring rocks with which to cover him, and the body was slowly concealed. Jack felt oddly detached, unsure what to think of all this.

Finally, a mound of stones concealed the corpse entirely, and Ryan stepped forward. Jack saw him square his shoulders and take a deep breath. Then, without hesitation, he moved forward in one swift movement, body arching down in a single fluid bend as he planted his hands at the head and toes of the burial mound.

The blaze of heat that shot out of the rocks made all of them take a step back, hands rising to shield their eyes from the bright, crimson glow. It was so bright that Jack couldn’t watch, squeezing his eyes shut. By the time it finally died down, there were colourful spots dancing in his vision.

“Holy shit,” he heard Michael hiss, next to him.

They moved forward, blinking. Ryan was hunched over what was now a bright slab of redstone, breathing heavily. After a moment he seemed to recover himself, and sat up, leaning forward to look at his work.

The redstone was translucent enough that they could see through it to the body beneath, looking at Geoff through shards of crystal. It distorted the body, made it seem fractured as though they were viewing the cracked pieces of a mirror - but there was something peaceful to the sight of his closed eyes, his face bathed in a red glow that made it hard to see how pale he was, how stiff and unmoving. The others shifted aside so Jack could move to the front, leaning in and pressing a hand to the redstone. It was warm to the touch - almost as though it was alive, he thought, a touch morbidly.

_Will this really work?_

He had so many questions. Would the body heal once Geoff’s soul returned to it? Or would the Wither’s wound still be there? Would they have to break the redstone before they let his soul back in, lest he suffocate inside?

There was a lot to wonder about - but he forced himself to push it from his mind.

_These are early days. You will find out everything you need to. Ryan has this under control._

“Jack?” someone said behind him.

He turned to find them all watching him. Gavin stepped forward, and peered over Jack’s shoulder at the body. He’d refused to look at it during the funeral, but now Jack saw his face come alight with curiosity as he reached out and traced a finger over the redstone.

“He looks like he’s sleeping,” he murmured, so quietly only Jack, beside him, could hear.

Jack reached out and touched Gavin’s shoulder lightly.

“We’ll wake him up,” he replied, and they exchanged a small smile. Gavin straightened up and turned to the others.

“My mobs will keep a close guard over him,” he declared. “The body will be protected. Any change, and we’ll let Ryan know right away. He is safe here in the Wild.”

With the mobs standing in a solemn crowd behind him, and his friends nodding fiercely beside them, he looked very capable, now - not broken, like he had been before. The sight of him so changed, so determined now, made hope flare through Jack’s chest - made it easier for him to believe, too.

A second later, Gavin pulled a knife out of his belt, and everyone exchanged mildly alarmed looks.

“What needs stabbing, Gav?” Michael asked, amusement and concern mingling in his tone.

Gavin rolled his eyes at how they’d all stiffened.

“Us,” he replied. “I heard we were all going to sign alliance treaties. But I remember what happened with the first rulers - what I saw through the Endermen’s eyes. The magic of the crowns is strong, and the Wild has made it even stronger. It unites us in ways those outside the bond can’t understand. You feel it now,” he added, meeting Jack’s eyes.

Jack nodded. Even when Geoff had tried to describe the crown bond to him, he’d never been able to feel it, not like he could now. There was something intimate about experiencing something that only four others did.

“The crowns come from the tower,” Gavin said. “The root of magic in our land. Its pieces are meant to be together. For too long they weren’t. Now, with the five of us, we’re finally taking a step back towards balance.”

The others listened in silence. They’d moved closer, watching him intently.

“The treaties are legally binding,” Gavin said, and looked down at the knife. “But ink and paper is one thing. Our blood is where the magic lies.”

“The blood of the five kingdoms,” Ryan murmured, and Gavin looked up and met his eyes.

“Exactly,” he replied. “It wasn’t just a pact, when they did it that first time. It strengthened their gift - bound them together as the new keepers of this world’s magic. And if we’re gonna bring someone back from the dead, well… that’s gonna take a hell of a lot of magic.”

Michael immediately stepped forward, eager. The others followed too, standing in a ring around the redstone slab - the soldiers and Gavin’s friends looking on in curiosity. Jack ignored their stares, far too preoccupied to pay them much attention. His heart was pounding, and just from standing close to the others he could feel some thrumming tension building up between them all.

Gavin went first. He didn’t so much as flinch as he cut both his palms and passed the knife to Michael, cupping his hands so the dark blood that welled up in them wouldn’t spill. Michael made no sound either, cutting quickly and efficiently before handing the knife along to Ray.

Jack, on Gavin’s other side, went last. He barely even thought about what he was doing as he took his turn - there was something dreamlike to all this, something nearly unreal. The brief pain was drowned out almost immediately by the tingling surges of magic in his veins as he grasped Gavin’s hand on one side, and Ryan’s on the other. The circle was complete, and it felt like they were burning.

The magic flared as strong as when he’d first put his crown on, but this time it wasn’t painful - just intense, like it had filled him so entirely that it now strained against his skin. And the others - he couldn’t tell where he ended or any of them began. He felt closer to them than he ever had to anyone, like they were entirely one, their minds as familiar as his own. He’d never understood anyone like that before, never felt someone _else_ understand _him_ so completely.

He closed his eyes and let the odd sensation wash over him. _Power_ , he realised, that was what it was. It felt like he could travel the entire kingdom with the Sight in a second if he wished to. Like they could do anything they wanted. It invigorated him, especially given how tired and flat he’d felt these last few days.

He sucked in a deep breath, and opened his eyes to see Michael, on the opposite side of the circle, do the same thing. Their eyes met, and Michael gave a small smile.

They slowly let go of each other and stepped back. Jack’s hands felt sticky with blood, and he couldn’t tell if it was his, Gavin’s or Ryan’s. But the cuts only stung, dully, and everything around him felt clearer somehow.

For a moment they paused, looking down at Geoff’s lifeless face. Then in some silent acceptance they all turned away, exchanging looks with one another - some shared knowledge that it was time to leave, to go home, yet it didn’t feel like they were leaving each other behind. Jack could still feel them, in the back of his head.

“Gavin,” Ryan said - his voice broke the silence and seemed to bring them all back to reality. “I’m going to put redstone lights around the compound, to make it easier for my people to travel here.”

Gavin nodded, and followed him back towards the wall. With that, everyone broke apart, returning to packing or building or whatever their duties were. Jack stayed by the body, lingering to watch over it. Michael and Ray were still nearby, and after a moment Ray stepped forward too. Jack watched him, curious - he crouched, pressing a hand to the ground next to the redstone tomb, and after a moment rose bushes sprang up around it.

Jack couldn’t help his small, fond smile. With the flowers surrounding the tomb, it looked a lot nicer, more peaceful - like some forest glade instead of a grave laid out on display like some laboratory experiment. The deep red colour of the roses matched nicely.

“Thank you,” he said, and Ray looked up and nodded, smiling back before rising and walking towards Jack. He hesitated, then pulled him into a brief, tight hug.

Jack hugged him back. He hadn’t had much time to speak to Ray, lately. Everything had just been so hectic. But he was fond of the other man, and looked forward to spending more time working together with the alliance in place, now.

They pulled apart, and Michael came up too. He looked down at Geoff, and his face twisted, sadly.

“He saved my life,” he began, and Jack shook his head.

“Don’t even start with that,” he said, firmly. “None of this is your fault. It could’ve been anyone. And he would never have regretted it. He cared about both of you,” he added, glancing between them. “It’s not a sacrifice he would ever have hesitated to make.”

Michael nodded, but Jack could see he wasn’t quite convinced. Still - he took a deep breath, and looked down at the tomb.

“Even so, I owe him,” he replied. “So I’m not gonna give up until we’ve saved _him_ this time.”

Jack nodded, and Ray reached out and squeezed Michael’s hand. They smiled at each other before Michael moved back off to his warriors - Ray watched him leave, and Jack could see the raw affection in his eyes. How there was something peaceful and settled between the two of them now.

Ray turned and saw him looking, and Jack gave a small smile. He still remembered the first proper conversation they’d had, back during the games, when Ray’s hands were bleeding and he was convinced he’d just ruined everything with Michael. They’d come a long way since then, and Jack couldn’t help feeling proud of them.

“You got your happy ending then,” he said. “Or something of it.”

“I guess I did,” Ray murmured. “You helped with that. Thank you. Michael and I will help you get yours, too.”

He twisted and looked over at Gavin, standing by the wall - Jack followed his gaze, but gave a questioning frown. Ryan was over there too, and he couldn’t tell who Ray was looking at. But a moment later, Ray shook himself, and stepped forward again.

“Visit me with the Sight often,” he said. “Let’s stay in touch more, now these alliances are in place.”

“I intend to,” Jack assured him, and Ray gave a proper grin then. He clapped him warmly on the shoulder, turned and touched the tomb over Geoff’s body one more time, then left to rejoin Michael, Jack watching them go with a bittersweet smile.

.

.

.

Ray remembered the last time he and Michael had parted, outside the Stone fortress, dreading their upcoming marriage and further apart than ever.

This time couldn’t be more different than that. They were sad, but for a different reason, as they stood clasping one another’s arms, loathe to let go. They’d just kissed - lengthily, taking their time, relishing these last moments spent together - but now Michael stared into his eyes before pulling him in _again_.

There was some measure of privacy in the trees of the Wild, but still - Ray wanted more than this, wanted them to go home _together_ , to make up for all the time they’d spent fighting. For now, he took what he could get, gripping Michael’s shoulders like he never wanted to let go, memorising the way the other man’s lips worked against his.

When they broke apart, they rested their foreheads together, catching their breath.

“Sorry,” Michael murmured. “For how stupid I was before.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“I was. And I was an asshole to you just because I felt awkward.”

“I was an asshole too.” Ray leaned in and pecked him lightly on the lips before looking into his eyes and smiling. “But it all worked out now, that’s all that matters. And properly being together… it makes us stronger. If that’s even possible for you.”

Michael jokingly flexed his muscles and snorted. They drew apart, but his warm hand lingered on Ray’s shoulder, as though he still couldn’t bear to let him go.

“See you as soon as possible?” he said, and Ray grinned.

“Of course,” he said, then added, “My husband.”

Michael’s eyes widened, and Ray understood why. It’d given him a little thrill just to say it. It seemed stupid, because they’d been married for months now, but still - it hadn’t felt _real_ , not like it did now, when they were finally actually _together_.

“Shit, we _are_ ,” Michael said - Ray laughed, and started to roll his eyes, but Michael shook his head. “No, really. It didn’t sink in until now. Gods, we wasted so much _time_.”

“More like we went through all the stages of a relationship in entirely the wrong order,” Ray chuckled, but couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at just how wide the smile on Michael’s face was, how delighted he looked at this revelation.

Before, he’d always avoided dwelling on his strand of the bond with Michael, afraid of the hatred or anger he might find there - now, as they embraced one last time before turning away, he knew it would get him through these next few long months without the man he loved, who he now knew loved him in turn.

.

Gavin sat up in the boughs of one of the tallest trees near the compound, watching the Desert and Alpine delegations fade away into the distance, little specks against the dark, barren surface of the Stoneworld beyond. His heart felt heavy, and he wasn’t sure why. He already missed them. He already missed _Geoff_. He was mostly just trying not to think about everything that’d happened, to let the weight of their impending task overwhelm him.

It was nice up here, on the thin branches, the wind swaying the leaves around him. He easily kept his balance. It was refreshing to be out in the open air instead of closed in under the Wild’s canopy, and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling rather like he was hanging in space, weightless and free.

“Gavin!” someone called from underneath. His eyes snapped open.

 _Ryan_.

After all that’d happened the last few days, he felt closer to the other man - but he had no idea if that went both ways, although Ryan had acted more warmly towards him. Still - he climbed down, and found Ryan waiting on the ground. Just like the rest of them, he looked tired and worn down after everything, but determined.

"Jack wants to see you before he leaves,” he said, and Gavin nodded. He had wandered a little way from the compound.

“Of course. I’ll head back there.”

He turned to go, awkward, but Ryan suddenly caught his arm. Their eyes met, and there was a funny, almost nervous pause before Ryan licked his lips and began to speak, his voice quick and hesitant.

“About… about what happened between us. Since you explained your side of things, I do understand. I was angry, and hurt, because I genuinely felt something for you. Something I’d never felt towards anyone before. But the way I treated you afterwards was unacceptable.”

Gavin just smiled. He hadn’t expected another apology, but it meant a lot to hear it, and he couldn’t help being glad. Since he’d realised Ryan’s feelings were sincere, it’d been apparent that of everyone here, they _did_ understand each other more than anyone else ever could.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I wasn’t exactly behaving like a saint myself!”

Ryan seemed relieved. He gave a small smile.

“In that case,” he said, “I hope we can move forward, this time with the assurance that neither of us has some sort of cunning ulterior motivation.”

Gavin laughed, and nodded. He was relieved. After the stress of what’d happened with Geoff, it felt good to have someone else on his side. Especially Ryan, who he _did_ want to get to know better - who he felt such a strong connection with. And now that the misunderstandings were over with, he realised with a sudden thrill, things might actually be _real_ this time, on both ends, if they got closer. It was exciting to think about.

“I look forward to that,” he replied, and they exchanged a small, fond smile.

He was surprised when Ryan was the first to reach out, laying a hand on his arm gently.

“What you’ve built here is astounding,” he said, with a funny, intent sincerity. “I’m proud of you, and I know Geoff was too. It’s probably better that you took the crown than that I had it.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say. The words made him feel quite emotional suddenly, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat until he could smile again.

“I don’t know if it’d even have worked if you took it,” he pointed out. “It might have been too much magic for one person to handle.”

“Seems like it all worked out for the best, then,” Ryan said. He squeezed Gavin’s shoulder. “Our kingdoms are close. It’s lucky. It will be easier for us to work together.”

“So this is more a _see you soon_ than a _goodbye_ ,” Gavin replied, and Ryan nodded, his eyes very soft.

“Of course,” he said.

His hand slipped from Gavin’s arm, but they were still standing very close to each other. Gavin wasn’t sure where to look - Ryan’s eyes, his lips, the glinting ruby on the clasp of his cape. He felt like something else needed to happen, but wasn’t sure what, both of them too awkward to make the first move.

 _Fuck it,_ thought Gavin. He’d waited too long with Geoff, and things had festered for so long with Ryan for no good reason. He was finished with waiting because he was too scared to make a move. Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist and pulled him into a hug, burying his face in the other man’s chest.

He felt Ryan stiffen with surprise - then relax, slowly, one hand coming down to rest in Gavin’s hair, hugging him back. Gavin closed his eyes.

He didn’t remember much about the night Geoff died. He’d seen the destruction he’d caused later, and been ashamed - someone could’ve been hurt, and it was sheer luck that no one was - but what he did remember was Ryan, holding him close, trying his best to comfort him, taking him down from the tower afterwards. He was more grateful than he could say that he hadn’t been alone in that moment. Gods knew how much more destruction he might have caused if he had been.

Lately, everything had been moving so fast. Things with Jack and Geoff - with Michael and Ray - he couldn’t tell if he felt like they were being pulled in all directions, or if it was more like they were coming together. It was particularly scary for him; he’d always found it hard to trust people, to believe that everything would just work out happily.

He knew it was hard for Ryan, too - that if anyone could understand, it was the other man.

He was glad he was here. Working together, it made him feel more like everything might be okay.

They pulled apart slowly. Somehow, it wasn’t awkward. Ryan just clasped his shoulders and gave him a small smile before stepping back.

“See you soon,” he said, and Gavin felt his lips pull into a grin.

“See you soon,” he replied.

.

Getting far enough out of the Wild to no longer feel its magic was odd. It still lingered in Michael’s blood, like an aftertaste or the burn of strong liquor, warm in his chest - but not being constantly immersed in it felt like stepping out into the cold again. Already he almost missed it, even if it had once made him shiver with dread.

They were trekking through the Stoneworld, back towards the Alps. As the Wild became little more than a dark smudge over his shoulder, he pulled off his gloves and examined his palms.

He healed quickly, thanks to his gift. It made him more resilient, as well as stronger, and the aches and pains of the fights against the Wither were already fading. The cuts on his hand were scarring over quickly, too - but he hoped they wouldn’t vanish completely. He liked the reminder of the ceremony, the alliance, the _others_.

He clenched his fists tightly and traced the threads of the bond back to all the others. It still felt strange, having Jack instead of Geoff, that absence of something so familiar - but he drank it in, and let it reassure him as he felt the others get physically further and further away.

.

Ryan stood over his desk in his silent bedroom. It felt too quiet, too empty and alone, being back here and knowing all the others would soon be long gone as well. The room itself felt strange and heavy. He’d gotten sick of it, after spending so long in here recuperating from his own injury some months ago.

But he shook himself. _No distractions now. There is too much work to do_.

Soon he’d have to go and announce to the court what was happening, to arrange the alliance documents and work out exactly where to invest his resources from here. All these sudden announcements about new research might not go down well with the council. He thought they probably would not see its relevance.

But the people - he hoped they would understand, or at least trust him. After all, the golems had been ragingly successful. And his reputation, while intimidating, was not as his mother’s had been, where people feared to whisper about her but loathed her deep in their hearts.

He took out his notebook and laid it down on his desk, opening it and flicking through it. He’d been making notes constantly this entire time, and it was filled with scribbles he’d added ever since they’d ventured out to the Wild. His planning notes on golems quickly shifted into drawings of Gavin’s giant spiders, notes on his mobs and how many there were, and scrawled layouts of his castle and potential plans.

He could only laugh at himself - his paranoia about an attack from Gavin seemed silly now, and he huffed as he flipped a page and found a stupid picture he’d drawn of Gavin himself, labelled with all the physical changes he’d noticed. _Glowing eyes - absurdly agile - funny aura?_

 _Giant fucking nose,_ he noticed with a slight smile. He was no artist, but the crude drawing was still immediately recognisable just from that one feature.

He continued flipping through. Portals, the Gold king, the tablets and temples and gods… a wealth of new information discovered in the span of barely a few weeks. It was nearly overwhelming.

But he took a deep breath, and turned to a new, blank page, and wrote a new heading - _Nether_ \- and began to work out exactly what they needed to do next.

.

Everything was ready for Jack to leave the Wild and return home. The rest of the soldiers were waiting outside the gates for him, but he lingered for a final moment by the tomb, staring down at Geoff’s face - the face of a man he’d seen just about every single day since they were children, yet who he still somehow felt he hadn’t spent long enough with.

 _I’m going to miss you._ He still felt lost, directionless, unprepared for all the trials he knew were about to come - especially since he’d essentially be facing them alone, though he knew Lindsay and Burnie and others in the court would do their best to support him.

But at least he had the Sight, and hence the easiest means of keeping in touch with the others if he needed to. He took a deep breath and turned to find Gavin lingering some distance back. He was holding a gourd, and when Jack beckoned him over he walked up and poured a stream of some strong-smelling liquor over the tomb.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh - relieved that at least Gavin was able to joke around.

“Don’t waste good alcohol,” he chided, and Gavin smiled and took a drink instead before passing the bottle to Jack. He drank, too - just a quick sip, he sure as fuck needed one after everything that had happened. When he lowered the gourd, Gavin had moved closer to him and was staring at him, something sad and longing in his eyes.

Jack paused, slowly setting the bottle down on the ground. It didn’t feel real that after this whirlwind of events they were just going to _leave_ again, to part ways like they had eight months ago. But a fierce determination swelled up in his chest.

_Not like last time._

_We won’t leave things like that._

_Anything can happen, you’ve seen that - you can’t wait, not anymore. Not when you both_ know, _now_.

He stepped towards Gavin, reaching out for him, a silent question in it. Gavin didn’t move away, or break eye contact, and it gave Jack the confidence to draw him in and kiss him.

It had been too long coming.

He remembered kissing Geoff for the first time - this felt the same, at once familiar and thrilling, something he’d been waiting for so long that now that it was happening it didn’t quite feel real. Gavin tasted like the liquor he’d just drunk. He had more of a beard than usual, and it scratched against Jack’s face - but his hands, clutching at Jack’s arms, were very warm, and the little muffled noise he made as Jack tugged him closer made Jack smile against his lips.

He was unprepared for the feeling of the bond swelling, for how intimately close their _minds_ suddenly seemed, as well as their bodies. But he let it happen - let Gavin in - he trusted him, after all, and had wanted for so long to be as close as possible.

Gavin’s hands came to rest on his shoulders. He was leaning up, tilting his head back to compensate for their difference in height. When they finally pulled apart, he leaned in and nuzzled his face into Jack’s shoulder.

“‘bout damn time,” he mumbled, and Jack laughed. His heart was pounding and he couldn’t stop smiling, though it was similar to what Geoff had said, and there was the same underlying, sad touch to it all. They were together, but just like last time, all three of them weren’t here. Things just never seemed to line up between them.

He leaned down and kissed the top of Gavin’s head. Gavin looked up at him, something oddly serious on his face.

“You know it’s not just us,” he said, slowly.

“I know,” Jack murmured back.

It was true. Especially after that, he’d been able to feel just how close Gavin was to the _others_ , how his connections with them felt - and they were strong enough to be terrifying, flaring like the sun. Jack had seen him interacting with Ryan, with Michael and Ray too, now. Maybe he hadn’t had as many chances himself - but, he found, he wanted to.

“But it’s not just five of us,” he continued, and glanced at the ruby tomb beside them, a lump swelling in his throat. “It’s six.”

“Of course,” Gavin said - still, Jack shook himself, not wanting to linger on sadness in this moment. He cupped Gavin’s cheek and tilted his head up.

“Things are complicated,” he admitted. “But we’ll work it all out. This whole business with other worlds, other kings, other monsters… _this_ is what makes our world strong.” He tapped Gavin’s chest. “The bond - our land was torn apart, but the crowns keep things together. If we work together, nothing can stop us.”

“But we have a choice,” Gavin mused.

“Of course,” Jack said. “What I feel for you, for… for the others. It’s not just magic. It’s not just _fate_ , if you believe in that or not - otherwise, all the other kings would have ended up together. They didn’t. They chose to isolate themselves. But not us.”

“Good,” Gavin said, grinning, and Jack chuckled again.

“I know no one ever tells you what to do, Free.”

Gavin’s lips twitched, but after a moment he looked away.

“Not even you and Geoff,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Jack said, and bit his lip, remembering what bad terms they had parted on last time. But Gavin looked up, then.

“I’m sorry for how things happened,” he said again, but Jack cut in before he could continue.

“I’m sorry for not showing you sooner that we loved you,” he said. No more time should be wasted on apologies now, and he pressed a finger to Gavin’s lips before he could say any more. “I do love you.”

Gavin’s eyes softened.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and Jack nodded, leaning in and giving him another quick, gentle kiss before turning to look at the tomb.

“You’ll be able to tell Geoff as well,” he assured him, and Gavin nodded. They hugged tightly for another long moment before Jack pulled back and forced himself to turn away, knowing if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to go.

He didn’t say goodbye. It sounded too permanent. But the warmth of Gavin’s hands lingered on his arms, and he reached up and touched his lips as he headed for the gate, sparing just one glance back over his shoulder at Gavin, standing by Geoff’s side, waving him off. His heart ached for a moment, but he pushed it aside.

This time, despite leaving, they were still together. He could feel them all, at the back of his head and in his heart.

This time, they were coming back.

.

.

.

Geoff woke up with a sudden start.

He couldn’t feel the others. That was the first thing he noticed, the biggest difference that disoriented him, after years immersed in the bond and feeling himself tied to four other souls. A sudden _nothingness_ \- alone in his own head. But not empty, not like they’d died and he was waiting for someone to fill their place - it was like before he was bonded, a sensation he’d forgotten, it seemed so long ago. The constant presence of magic was gone.

The next thing he noticed was that the ache and numbness and haze of fever was gone. His mind felt clear, and he was in no pain. He felt groggy and dazed, and realised he was lying on the ground on some hard surface. Wherever he was, it was hot, like how the firelit room had been hot - but a dry heat, rather than the muggy sweat of fever and a smoky room. Like how he remembered the Desert, the times he’d visited there.

He sat up with a long groan, confused.

_What the fuck is going on?_

The last thing he remembered was… fuck, he didn’t know. Pain. Fear. Knowing he was going to die. Drifting off to sleep with Jack’s arms around him. That was all. Now he was… somewhere else?

He opened his eyes, and looked around.

Fire. Lava. _Heat._ He was in what by all accounts looked like some sort of volcanic landscape, lying on a rocky ground of some igneous material, filled with mountains and boulders in all directions. There was no sign of civilisation, but nearby a waterfall of bubbling lava streamed down from whatever precipice he was on. He seemed to be in some sort of cliffy area, and around him he could see the openings of caves, but little else. A red sky stretched away overhead, but it didn’t look like the sky back on earth, for it was solid in colour and there was no texture of clouds. In the distance, two dark shapes floated, but they were too far away for him to tell what they were.

If he had to guess, he’d’ve thought he had been dropped somewhere in the volcanic regions of the Stoneworld, but something felt _off_ about this whole place.

“Hello?” he called out, and picked himself up off the ground. Something felt strange about his body - he looked down, and lifted his shirt. There was no trace of the wound that had killed him, the spreading black, and he frowned.

_What happened? Am I…_

The answer was quite clear. Unless somehow, mysteriously, he’d fucking teleported out of the Wild to here, the only reasonable explanation was that he was dead, and this was some sort of afterlife.

Well.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the fact that his soul was _somewhere_ and hadn’t faded into oblivion was almost reassuring. After all, it meant it was possible he’d see the others one day - hopefully not for a long, long time, but the fear of _nothingness_ had been what was most distressing in the moments back on earth when he was trying to come to terms with his impending death.

“Hello?” he called out again. He couldn’t be alone here, surely. “Is anyone else out there?”

He took an experimental step. He could feel the heat on his skin and the hard ground under his feet. By all accounts, it felt like he had a physical body. This wasn’t like the Sight, where he could move through walls and float into the air as though he was in a dream.

“Anyone?” Geoff yelled again. His voice echoed around the rocks in this strange canyon, and he froze as he heard a shuffling sound from nearby.

“Shit,” a man’s voice hissed. “What the fuck? We’re not alone?”

It was coming from within the rock wall next to him, and he inched forward, around another boulder to find the entrance to a cave nearby.

“He can’t be after us already,” another voice said - a woman’s, deep and gravelly. “No one should have noticed we’re missing.”

“Shit, no - get back to the compound, quick.”

“Go see who it is!”

“Why do _I_ have to see who it is?”

“Hello?” Geoff called out again, deeply confused. There was another scuffling noise, then, cautiously, a face peered out from the cave entrance before relaxing, shoulders slumping as they stepped out properly towards him. It took Geoff a moment to recognise them, but when he did, his eyes widened.

The man looked haggard and gaunt. Geoff couldn’t say what it was about him, but if he’d seen him walking down a street, he’d’ve thought he might be a ghost. It just seemed like the life was faded out of him, though physically he looked completely fine. Like he was fading away a bit at a time, and wasn’t quite all-there.

But he’d seen this man before, in the Sight - he knew those dark eyes, that weathered face littered with rough scars and pockmarks. The shaggy black hair and little goatee.

It was the Wild king who’d preceded Gavin, who’d been killed by the first beast. He’d recognised Geoff instantly, too, and stepped forward now.

“Ramsey,” he grunted.

“You’re the Wild king? So this is the afterlife, then,” Geoff replied. He was still very confused, but instinctively glad to see another human, even if it was someone he remembered to be a thief and a bandit.

The Wild king gave a harsh laugh.

“It’s something, alright,” he replied, and shook his head, running his hands through his hair. He seemed stressed, Geoff noticed - jittery and nervous. “Fuck, you picked a bad time to die, Ramsey. Things are about to kick off around here, and you’ve just ruined everything by dropping in like this.”

“Well _sorry_!” Geoff said, rather indignantly. “I didn’t exactly choose this! What is this place, what are we meant to do here?”

“You stay right where you are,” he replied, already beginning to back up into the cave again. “The overlord will come to pick you up soon. It can take him a minute to go out and collect new people when they pass over to here. As for me, I’m about to get the fuck out of here because we are _not_ meant to be this far out from the city.”

“City? What the fuck’s going on?” Geoff demanded, but the king was already turning away. Geoff leaped after him and seized his arm, yanking him back roughly - noticing, vaguely, how the other man felt solid and warm in his grasp, like real flesh and blood. “Hey, wait! Don’t just leave!”

The Wild king spun around and tugged himself free.

“Just be patient!” he snapped - there was fear in his eyes, Geoff realised, under his annoyance. “You’ll be initiated soon enough! But the overlord will have my arse if I don’t get out of here right now and get back to the city. We snuck out. We’re not meant to leave. If you hadn’t shown up, he’d never have had a reason to come out here.”

“We?” Geoff asked again, but the other man barrelled on, irritated.

“So you’ve kind of fucked over our plans by appearing like this! Thanks a lot, your fucking majesty.”

“What plans?” Geoff shrieked, so confused that he was starting to get annoyed. Surely it wasn’t hard to _explain_ to the new guy, dear fucking _gods_ , do a guy a fucking _favour_ here. “Oh my fucking gods, what’s going _on_ -”  
  
“Weisheng!” the female voice from before snapped, from within the cave. “What’s taking so long?”

Another figure strode out, having overheard their conversation and presumably realised Geoff wasn’t a threat. Geoff froze as he caught sight of her and took in who it was. She paused, too, spine stiffening as she straightened up.

“Oh,” she sneered. “It’s _you_.”

The woman looked far more haggard than the Wild King did - like an ancient painting that hadn’t been cared for, that’d faded and begun to rot away. But her ice-blue eyes burned with a terrifying determination, and there was no way he wouldn’t have recognised her - six feet tall and with a soldier’s stance. That cruel twist to her lips, those hard eyes.

“Oh, fuck me,” he breathed. “This must be hell if _you’re_ here.”

She scowled at him, head tilting like a vulture sizing up its prey.

“Ramsey,” she replied, coldly. “So you’re the next to join us. Of course _you’d_ be the one to show up at the most _inopportune_ time.”

Geoff groaned, reaching up to rub his eyes, shaking his head. This was starting to feel more and more like a nightmare, what the _fuck_.

An enormous crack of thunder rang out, making all three of them jump. Geoff looked over his shoulder and saw a dark mass of cloud had appeared in the sky and was moving towards them like a whirlwind.

“Fuck,” Weisheng whispered, starting to back up. “He’s on his way. We need to get out of here.”

Geoff squeezed his eyes shut again, and took a deep breath.

He still was confused more than anything. What was he meant to do here? What was this place? Why was Weisheng, beside him, shifting and glancing nervously around, like he thought something might _attack_ them - like he was _afraid_ , when they were all already dead?

But this was where he was now, and whatever happened, he had to fucking deal with it and work out what his next move should be - where he was meant to go - how, ultimately, he could find Jack and Gavin and be with them again. So whoever he was stuck with, in this curious afterlife, he would rather work with them than let mortal animosities fester.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and held out a hand, meeting the woman’s eyes.

“Queen Haywood. It’s… interesting to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[My playlist](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/resurrection) ** for this story - the whole thing overall, but particularly for the way it ends and how things will move into the next story in the series.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported this fic through fanart, comments and kudos! I really hope you enjoyed it and it’s been heaps of fun continuing this AU <3
> 
> A big thanks especially to miss-ingno and youre-my-bois for beta-reading.
> 
>  **There will be another story in this series** , a final part to close off this main plotline. But before then, I’m taking a small break and writing an Immortal GTA AU. While that’s in progress, expect a few more Lazer Team fics :’)
> 
>  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [More Fool Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308634) by [WashYourSinfulHands](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashYourSinfulHands/pseuds/WashYourSinfulHands)
  * [King Of Bad Ideas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943554) by [tenlittlecockbites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlecockbites/pseuds/tenlittlecockbites)




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